


The Trouble With Normal

by A_Damned_Scientist



Series: Ambassador Aeryn [1]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Damned_Scientist/pseuds/A_Damned_Scientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>16 years after PKW, Moya is exploring Tormented Space and Aeryn, John, their shipmates and children are about to be plunged into an unexpected, unwanted and dangerous adventure.</p><p>The first of 4 fics which together make up the longest fanfic I ever wrote. Originally posted elsewhere in 2010-2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Rating and warnings: PG, nothing you wouldn't have encountered watching the TV series.
> 
> Setting: 16 Years post PKW. This was written back in 2010 and 2011 when the comics were coming out. It is partially comic canon compliant, but I gave up on that after a while.
> 
> Voted best Action Adventure (first place) and best Future Fic (third place) in the 2011 Terra Firma fanfic awards.
> 
> Thanks: Very, very many thanks to pdsldl for beta-ing
> 
> Disclaimers: Not mine, not for profit. If anyone can remember why we write fanfic, could you let me know?

**Prologue:**

Every crewmember of the Pantak class Vigilante was dead.

During the Scarran-Peacekeeper war, the ship had been part of a Peacekeeper flotilla which had engaged a Scarran Dreadnought and its escorts. A freak shot from the Dreadnought had destroyed the Peacekeeper ship's life support system. The Vigilante had suffered little other damage in the exchange, but that did not matter for its unfortunate crew, who had been lyophilized within a matter of microts. Few ships on either side had survived that engagement, and none of those that had had any time to waste on recovering a dead ship. So, the Vigilante continued on its course undisturbed, obeying what an Erpling like the notorious John Crichton would have termed the Newtonian laws of motion, straight towards the heart of Tormented Space.

Fourteen monens passed, and the Vigilante travelled deeper and deeper into Tormented Space. All the while, Captain Cholla remained at her post, the consummate Peacekeeper corpse. After that time, the ship began to draw closer to one particular planet, and it's nearby, flaring sun. Collision alarms blared on the ship's deserted bridge. But, of course, none of the freeze-dried crew responded. To avert crashing into the planet, the Vigilante's guidance system began to make emergency, automated course corrections. The ship swept closer to the planet's atmosphere, but, thanks to the ship's automated computer piloting system, it was soon no longer on course to crash into the planet, or to burn up in it's atmosphere. Rather, the Vigilante began to swing round the planet, passing through it's upper atmosphere in a partial orbit, gaining speed as it did so under the influence of the planet's gravity.

The Vigilante entered the fringes of the atmosphere, and shortly afterwards, by some freak of timing, the nearby sun flared once again. More klaxons blared on the dead ship's command as radiation levels rose to dangerous levels. Dangerous levels had anyone on board been alive, of course. Turbulence began to buffet the ship. Then, without time for further alarms, there was a discharge of electric-blue in the atmosphere ahead of the Vigilante, a funnel swirling in the fabric of space and time. And then, the ship was gone.


	2. Chapter One

John Crichton awoke and stretched the night's sleep from his body. A contented smile crept across his face as the memories of who he was and where he was came rushing back to him with the reawakening of his mind: Spaceman, family man, lover man. Hell, yeah!

After a shaky first few years after leaving Earth, life had been good to John for most of the last couple of decades since: He and his wife, Aeryn had lived their life, for the most part, in peace. They had raised their two offspring under the combined protection of the Hynerian Empire, Peacekeeper High Command and even the Scarran Empire.

These days the Peacekeepers treated retired Commandant Aeryn Sun, her crew and her family with the respect due to her former rank and her service in the war against the Grennij and Kkore. The Hynerian Empire protected them through bonds of friendship and a sense of family. Although the Moyans reciprocated the hatred of the Scarrans, the lizards still left them alone owing to a mixture of their residual fear of John's supposed power over wormholes and because he was still a valued totem for the peace which he had forced upon them and the Peacekeepers, cycles before. And, no matter his past enemies, his reputation, or how valuable he and his unique, half-human, half Sebacean children might be, only the foolish or the ignorant would choose to incur the wrath of all three of those powerful protectors.

Of course, in the early years after the Peacekeeper-Scarran and then the Kkore wars, some fools had tried their hands, had tried to abduct or cajole the Sun-Crichtons. But word had eventually spread regarding how unwise such a course of action could be, and it had been many cycles now since anyone had threatened them or their travelling companions. No purse was high enough to persuade a mercenary or bounty hunter to come after them these days. Those that had had been foolish or desperate enough to try had been easily repelled by the small force of retired Peacekeepers who now comprised much of Moya's crew, whilst the tales of how those who had threatened their family had been hunted and punished by the greater powers had become the stuff of port-bar legend across known space. These days, John scarcely had occasion to give any thought to the safety of his family at the hands of petty criminals or bounty hunters.

This morning was a special day: Sixteen cycles ago today, he and his delicious, beautiful, somewhat terrifying wife Aeryn had both married him and had blessed his existence by giving birth to their first child. And what better way to begin such an auspicious day than to celebrate by making love with said gorgeous wife, John wondered with a mental leer? He was sure she would be willing. After those first few cycles he had spent in the UTs, when he had sometimes wondered if she was frigid (he still winced at the memory of the time he had used the word to describe her, to her face, under the influence of Traaltix), her sexual appetites now seemed to him to be almost insatiable. His baser interests now thoroughly awakened by his reverie, John rolled over to nuzzle Aeryn awake. As he turned over the black, satiny bed sheets slipped easily across his frame, which was still well-muscled and taught despite him now being, for a human, in late middle age.

He had never considered the possibility that the other side of the bed might be empty.

John frowned, first in disappointment and then in concern. He glanced across the empty expanse of their ample bed, across where Aeryn should have been, to the timepiece set on the low table close by her pillow: It was barely the sixth arn of the day: Still ship's night. Twisting back to his side of the bed, he lifted his comms badge from his own bedside table and activated it.

"Good morning, Pilot," he began, his voice likely betraying his frustration. He was growing ever more resigned to the fact that he would not be making love with Aeryn any time soon.

"Good morning, Commander," replied Pilot. Even after all these cycles, Pilot still couldn't seem to shake off the need to call him by the title John had had when the Erpling had first joined Moya. For his part, John had long ceased even to try to change Pilot's ways in this regard, far less to understand them. Commander worked just fine for John: Although he was not captain of Moya, he was second in command, and enjoyed a very special relationship with the actual captain. He had experimented with being called Number One, but it always made him think of Riker in Star Trek, and he could never take the title seriously. And Commander had a far better ring to it than did lieutenant, John had decided. So Commander he had remained.

"Could you locate Aeryn for me, please?" John asked, sitting up in bed.

"Certainly, Commander. She is in the Command chamber."

"Alone?"

"Yes, Commander," Pilot confirmed, his reply the epitome of polite efficiency.

"Thank you, Pilot, John out." John sighed as he climbed out of bed and swiftly threw on some casual clothes, the sort he used when exercising. There were many crew on Moya these days, not all of them long and close friends, and John had to keep up some appearances and a certain level of decency, even at this early hour. If he did not, the Captain would surely admonish him.

John entered command quietly on bare feet, immediately seeing Aeryn, who sat on a high stool at the main console, her attention darting between the console and the nearby nebula visible through the viewing portal. On catching sight of her, his thoughts were torn. On the one hand, he wanted to walk up to her, enfold her in his arms and play with her hair. Then, after a quick nuzzle to the side of her neck, either drag her back to their sleeping chamber or carry her across to the strategy table and have his wicked way with her right there. But, on the other hand, he knew that she had plenty of good reasons, today of all days, for being unable to sleep, and thus to seek the distraction of work. She wouldn't be in the mood for either option. John understood her well enough after all these years, and he wanted to help her with whatever was troubling her in whatever way she needed.

"Good morning, John," Aeryn greeted him softly, without turning. God, he loved the sound of her voice, he thought, as he came up behind her. Some things never grew old or boring for him, and the rich, deep tone of her voice was one of them. Opting for a compromise between his warring desires, he encircled her in a hug, taking care not to pin her arms, and annoy her inner Peacekeeper commando. He kissed her softly on the neck and she sighed and hummed appreciatively in response, arching slightly into his embrace.

"You know, you have a whole crew to run scans for you these days, Captain Sun," he teased her gently, trying to get her to open up and tell him why she had come to Command in the middle of the night. He thought he knew, of course, but it was nice to hear her say it.

"Yes, but it was me that could not sleep, John, not the crew," she replied, ever the pragmatist. He ran his hands up and down her shoulders and upper arms, earning another appreciative sigh.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, folding his arms around her and rocking her gently from side to side, trying again. He was determined that, one way or another, she was going to share with him whatever it was that was bothering her.

She turned her head to face him and smiled slightly. Despite the smile, her eyes spoke of sadness, not happiness.

"Oh, I just wish Deke and Livvy could be here, today," she said wistfully.

"I know," John replied, softly brushing the side of her face. Well, if that was all that was bothering her, John thought, then it wasn't so bad or unexpected. She smiled back and gently they touched foreheads, each drawing comfort from the familiar contact with the other. "But we'll see them in a couple of weekens."

It had been about six monens since they had seen their two offspring, Deke and Olivia, his sister of twelve cycles. The teenagers had both stayed on Hyneria for one of their now regular periods of formal education, whilst Moya and their parents left on their latest assignment. For this trip, Moya had been contracted by the Hynerian academy of sciences and a major Interon university in order to conduct a mapping and survey expedition deep into Tormented Space. As one of the few ships in the Charted Territories with both the experience and modifications required to safely negotiate the magnetic anomalies which plagued Tormented Space, Moya was a natural choice for such a trip, even without the personal patronage of the Hynerian Dominar. Such contracts were how Moya and her crew made their living these days, and it was too good an opportunity to pass up, even though the childrens' education could not be put on hold for another six monens. But the children were resilient and independent, they would cope. At least that was what Aeryn forever seemed to be telling John.

"If they were Peacekeeper cadets, then at their ages…" Aeryn had begun many a conversation prior to their departure from Hyneria. It was just a shame that, even as Moya headed back towards Hyneria, the length and remoteness of the expedition had caused them to be apart from the children on the double anniversary of their wedding and of Deke's birth.

Aeryn and John remained clasped in companionable silence for some time, only disturbed by the sound of a pair of heavy boots walking onto command. The newcomer, seeing his Captain and First Officer entwined in an intimate embrace, and perhaps worried that his footsteps would not be sufficient to make their presence known, cleared his throat with a cough before venturing further into the Command Chamber.

"Good morning, Nybar," Aeryn greeted the newcomer, as John released his grip on his wife. He knew that, hidden deep down in her mind, there was the discomforting thought that public displays of affection, especially in front of another Peacekeeper, might lead to death. That life was now long behind them all, especially the decorated and respected former Commandant Sun, the woman who had led the Peacekeepers into a new age of openness. New era or not, though, these days John was more appreciative of how hard Aeryn found it to throw off the immersive conditioning of her pre-contamination years.

"Good morning Captain," Nybar replied formally, nodding at them both in greeting. "I am, umm, here for first watch. Is there anything I need to be aware of?"

Nybar was clearly the most uncomfortable of the three about walking in on their tryst. He was a dour former Peacekeeper, his greying hair and lined face showing the first signs of Sebacean middle age. They had first met him at the start of the Kkore war and he had been a lieutenant on Aeryn's last Command Carrier. He was one of the many who had left Peacekeeper service with Aeryn when she had eventually stood down and was one of over two dozen former Peacekeepers who now served as crew aboard Moya. Although many of the others were techs, Nybar's undoubted experience and competence as an officer made him invaluable as Moya's second lieutenant.

"See you in the central chamber for breakfast," John said to Aeryn as he began to leave command. As he made his way towards the corridor, he overheard as Aeryn and Pilot began to brief Nybar.

"The nebula is still stable. But, we have not heard back from the probe yet," said Aeryn, all business-like once again.

"Communications traffic remains limited owing to the electromagnetic disturbances in Tormented Space," Pilot began. "We intercepted one communication regarding what seems to be another pirate attack, this time on a freighter in the Nanos system. Contact was lost with the ship yesterday and has not been re-established. Apparently a patrol ship from the Royal Colonies is moving to investigate…"

As John walked back to their quarters to freshen up and change before first meal, his mind ran over the last thing he had heard before leaving Command. Another pirate attack in this region: He hoped that he was only imagining that the attacks seemed to be getting more frequent. Disturbingly, he had also heard reports that some of the attacks seemed to have been carried out by a strange, new group. No one knew much about the background of these new pirates, but the few reports he had heard agreed that they seemed exceptionally well organised and equipped. He hoped to his core that it wasn't going to be, well, like the Kkore all over again: That war had started in a similar fashion. Rumour had it that the victims of this new group had always been overcome without even managing to get off a distress call, although it was also said that very few of their victims had been killed. From what little John had heard, robbery with violence, followed by casting their victims adrift, seemed to be the modus operandi of this new group. However, John was comforted that, even without their friends in high places, it would, of course, be brave or foolhardy pirates who dared challenge Moya and her crew.

As John reached the last intersection before entering the small section of Moya which was now known as the Captain's quarters he almost bumped into one of the most recent additions to their crew. He tried to walk on, with just a simple "Good Morning," for the sake of politeness, but J'alark, their new Interon physician, seemed to have something more in mind. John started to wonder whether she had been waiting at the junction for him to return in order to catch him when he could not call on Aeryn or Chi's support.

"Ah, good, I'm pleased to have bumped into you, Commander," said J'alark, doing nothing to dispel John's suspicions.

"Really?" John sighed. He could pretty much guess what was coming. He fervently hoped that Aeryn would be following in a few microts, heading back to their quarters before going to breakfast, and would scare the damned sawbones away.

"Yes. Just to remind you that I rescheduled your physical check up for 10th arn today."

"Yeah, I saw…" John replied, fidgeting from foot to foot and not meeting her eye.

"It's just, what with you missing or cancelling the last three appointments we had…"

"Yeah, sorry, stuff came up." he interrupted. He was hoping that he didn't look as shifty as he felt.

"You'll be there today though?" J'alark asked, full of solemnity, just as Aeryn came up behind John. "You haven't had a physical examination since I've been aboard, and the Goddess only knows when your last one was before that."

"I'll make sure of it," Aeryn put in, her voice and manner firm and commanding, stepping between John and J'alark.

"Thank you, Captain," The medic replied with a prim, satisfied smirk.

"See you at first meal, J'alark," Aeryn dismissed her, taking John's elbow and leading him away towards their quarters. John fumed in silence for several microts until he was confident they were out of earshot.

"Well thank you very much!" he spat.

"John, you haven't had a routine physical for five cycles: You are long overdue one," she responded, calmly, determined not to allow John to develop this into a more serious or emotional argument.

"Shyeah, but for an anniversary present? Very romantic!"

"If you'd let her see you before, you wouldn't have to see her today, would you?" Aeryn responded, trying and failing, not to match John's anger with her own mix of logic and stubbornness. Once upon a time, her current visage and posture would have counted as her doing an excellent job of controlling her anger, but time, experience, and a little old-time Sebacean religion had mellowed Aeryn. By her calm, controlled standards of recent years, John was somewhat taken aback by her obvious annoyance.

"She's not interested in my health, she only wants to find out why I'm not aging like a good ole inferior human should. Hell, I reckon it's the only reason she's on the ship. So she can write some papers on The Human, get herself a nice reputation," he responded, trying to get Aeryn to feel just a little sympathy for him.

"That may be true, John. But that is not the relevant point for you, is it?" she replied, exasperated.

"What's the point then, Aeryn? You tell me what's the point of all this?" John snarled readying himself for a fight. "Are you just looking out for the weak human again, because, newsflash, he doesn't want…" Aeryn held up a finger to John's lips, abruptly silencing him.

"No, John: As Moya's captain, I need to be sure that my first officer is in good health. And as your wife, and mother of your children, I deserve to have you take your health seriously." John glowered at her, unable to think of a come-back, but hating that she had won the argument. Damn it, he was supposed to be the smart one. She stared back at him for many microts, the battle of wills and stubbornness between them finely balanced. After the silence had gone on long enough for Aeryn to feel honour had been satisfied, she smiled and, grasping the top of his t-shirt with both hands, pulled him in closer.

"And, when we're done at the med bay, I'll take you back to our quarters for your anniversary present." She leant in closer, her mouth seeking out his earlobe. He was just reveling in the smell of her hair and the feel of her in his arms when he felt her bite his earlobe, and just a little too hard to be comfortable or accidental.

"Damn, woman, that hurt," he cried, putting a hand up to his sore ear as she shoved him away, laughing in a deep, playful manner.

"Just checking on your pain tolerance. For later," she teased, head slightly tilted, her mouth open in a partial smile and one eyebrow raised, in what John found to be a rather alluring way. "I'm feeling frisky and I need to know how much you'll be able to cope with."

"Well, if that's how it's gonna be," he countered, laughing and lunging for her in a well-signalled move that she easily sidestepped. Then her smile broadened before she took his hand in hers and dragged him towards their quarters.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Chiana cast an approving eye around the packed central chamber: With the exception of Pilot, every creature aboard Moya seemed to have crowded into the room, finding somewhere to sit or stand, and every creature aboard seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. Even the normally grim Nybar was carousing, surrounded by a tight knot of their ex-Peacekeeper soldiers. Sikozu sat close to Aeryn, on the other side to where John was located, and, from the amount of food and drink in front of her, the Kalish seemed to have forgone her monthly intake of vittles in order to make the most of this evening.

For their part, Aeryn and John were buried in each others' company. The chamber might just as well have been empty, for all they seemed to notice.

Though Chiana hated to interrupt their fun, she knew that she had to do it. She stood on her stool, put her fingers to her mouth and gave an ear-splitting whistle. She beamed as everyone stopped talking and turned towards her. Cocking her head, she peered around the room and grinned. Being the center of attention never got old for Chiana.

"Hey, everyone!" she paused and looked around the crew, who these days were mostly Sebaceans and a scattering of Interon scientists: There were some new faces, as there were every trip, mostly Interon this time out, but they had already had several monens exploring in deep space to get to know even the newcomers better. A ship could be a small place when there was nowhere else to go, all day, everyday.

Chiana knew it would be a difficult speech for her to give. Although the passage of years and other lovers had blunted the rawness of losing her D'Argo, it was still hard for her to remember that day, exactly seventeen cycles ago, without thinking sadly of him and how he had died trying to protect them all. A lot had happened to Chiana over the intervening cycles, including a disastrous period away from Moya in the early days. She had grown up a lot in the intervening cycles, and she knew she could put on a brave face and give a happy speech for her friends, to celebrate the good things about that day. And, afterwards, she told herself, she'd take advantage of the booze and the cover of the party to get blind drunk and remember D'Argo in her own way.

"I've been stuck on Moya, putting up with John and Aeryn, for about twenty cycles now." She continued, ignoring the unfortunate events surrounding her sojourn with Ronin, which she had long since reconciled with Aeryn and John. To all of them, that unfortunate misunderstanding was now closed. "Which means," she continued, "that, apart from Pilot, I'm probably their oldest friend onboard." She rode the catcalls for a moment, peering around defiantly. "So I guess, that's why I'm standing here with you all staring at me."

"Nah, that'd be the outfit, Chi," heckled John. She grinned back, leant down to pick up some food and threw it at him.

"As you all know, it was 16 cycles ago today that Aeryn finally made an honest man of John. And on that same day, their first narl, Deke was born. Like everything the old man does, their wedding was quite a memorable occasion for everyone who was there. There were a number of uninvited guests at the ceremony who just wouldn't leave, no matter how politely Aeryn asked them to go." She paused to ride the moment, "And the party afterwards got so lively that I don't think the venue has ever re-opened." She fixed John with a serious look. "I have a bill for damages here which the owners would like John to settle up," she added, allowing a long roll of something-like-paper to unravel floorwards. "And speaking of partying hard, I don't think Aeryn's ever really forgiven John for passing out on the floor when we got home to Moya. Well, we can't have him passing out on the Captain, can, we, so no raslak for you, tonight, old man!" She paused while John got made fun of again. "Of course, they had another narl a couple of years later, and from what I've heard, they've barely missed an opportunity ever since to work on creating another!" Several crew members banged on tables and cat-called at that, whilst others shuffled uncomfortably and avoided eye contact with everyone. "So maybe there'll be something we can celebrate some other day, if John can keep it up?" She paused to ride another raucous wave before continuing. "So if everyone could fill their glasses, except John….. And maybe Aeryn…?" Chiana leered suggestively at her friends. John grinned from ear to ear whilst Aeryn threw some food at the Nebari with frightening accuracy and force. "I ask you to raise your glass, to Aeryn and John."

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

"Can I join you?" Aeryn whispered into the darkness of the terrace. Once the party had passed beyond the stage where her presence mattered or would be noticed, she'd managed to slip away and, with the aid of Pilot and the DRDs, had quickly tracked down her Nebari friend.

"Of course, pull up a pew, as John would say," came Chiana's voice from just inside the terrace, to the left of the doorway.

Aeryn slinked inside and lowered herself to the ground alongside Chiana at the rear of the terrace, their backs against the warm, comforting wall of Moya. Aeryn carefully placed the bottle of raslak and the two tumblers on the floor between them.

"I…. I want to thank you for helping make tonight a success," Aeryn said eventually.

Chiana nodded "You're welcome." She turned and forced a slight smile for Aeryn's benefit, before turning back towards the stars.

"I know how hard it must be for you," Aeryn offered, her barely-controlled voice betraying that, indeed, she really did know.

Chiana took another swallow from her own bottle of raslak, for now eschewing the tumblers Aeryn had brought, and merely grunted in reply.

"You know I understand? What it's like to lose the man you love. You know that, don't you?" Aeryn said as she poured two glasses from her own bottle. She held one up for Chiana. The Nebari, briefly turned, forced another smile, and took the glass before returning her gaze to the darkness of space.

"Yeah, I know," Chiana conceded. It was one of the things the two women had in common which had cemented their friendship over the years.

"I'm not much good at this talking-about-things dren, but if there is anything that I can do, that we can do?" Chiana shook her head, the gesture barely visible in the gloom. "You talk, I'll listen, if you want." The value of Just Listening was one of the things she had learned from John over the many cycles since first leaving the life of a Peacekeeper behind, and, truth be told, it was a role she preferred over talking.

"Thanks Aer," Chiana grasped Aeryn's hand and squeezed it. They sat in companionable silence for a while, before Chiana volunteered. "You know, it's not so bad now, most of the time. But sometimes, like today…. Sometimes, it's difficult…."

"Chiana… I….."

"I know it's a special day, for you and John. But I can't just not think about what else happened that day." She paused for a deep breath before continuing. "I just wish it had all happened on different days, you know?"

"I know."

"Of course you do, Aer," and with that Chiana leaned in closer, resting her forehead on Aeryn's shoulder. It had been a long journey for Aeryn, from her days as a Peacekeeper commando to where she was now: Without even thinking about showing weakness or compassion far less about alien contamination, Aeryn began to gently stroke Chiana's hair.

"Shh. It'll be easier in the morning," Aeryn whispered gently, as they sat together and watched the nebula, whilst the sounds of a distant party drifted up to them from the central chamber.


	3. Chapter 2

Moya and her crew spent another three days surveying the nebula. Moya and Pilot enjoyed the time immensely, soaring to and fro around and amongst the particle clouds for fun, whilst at the same time feeling useful because they were serving their earnest, busy and most importantly of all, peaceful crew.

All too soon, though, it was time to leave the nebula and make for the rendezvous point with the ship which was bringing the Sun-Crichton younglings from Hyneria. They were scheduled to meet them near the edge of Tormented Space, after which they planned on turning back to spend another monen surveying anomalies in Tormented Space before finally heading back to Hyneria. Moya and Pilot were looking forward to another two to three monens of free flight before they arrived at Hyneria and had to say goodbye to whichever of their crew who would be leaving them this time around. Saying goodbye was always the saddest part for both of them. They comforted each other with the knowledge that, soon enough, there'd surely be new crew to welcome aboard for new adventures.

It was late in the day when Pilot picked up the hail from the Hynerian ship. By then the work day had finished for all but the late watch and most of the crew were engaged in casual or social activities. Pilot began searching for the senior officers and wasn't surprised when one of the DRD"s located Aeryn and John in their quarters. After first checking that they had not asked for privacy, Pilot hailed them.

"Captain, Commander."

"Yes, Pilot?" Aeryn responded almost immediately.

"Is it convenient… I hope I'm not interrupting?" he asked. He did not have a visual feed, but he could hear the sound of their television in the background for a few microts before one of them must have turned it off. Pilot determined that they had been watching one of the Earth entertainments called movies. Something called "Casablanca," if Pilot recognised the brief excerpt he had overheard correctly.

Officer Sun, as she then was, had brought quite a library of movies back from their single trip to Earth, cycles before, and all without John's knowledge or aid. She had selected them based on her recollection of John's ramblings prior to their visit to Earth and with the advice of John's sister, Olivia, with whom Aeryn had seemed to have formed a strong friendship during their brief stay on the planet. John had been amazed when he had found out how well she had chosen, and Pilot knew that the couple had spent many happy arns over the intervening cycles relaxing and forgetting their troubles watching those movies.

"I have a hail from the Morning Glory…" Pilot began, completely serious in his delivery.

"The WHAT!" John exploded in laughter.

"The Morning Glory, commander…" Pilot replied, allowing just the tiniest hint of irritation to slip into his tone.

"That's what I thought you said…" John sniggered.

"Shh, listen," Aeryn put in earnestly, laying her hand on his arm. Sometimes she wished John would take things just a little more seriously.

"One of Dominar Rygel's private yachts, which is bearing your offspring to the agreed rendezvous point."

"Only Rygel…," laughed John.

"I don't see what is so funny," said Aeryn, deadpanning. John wasn't sure whether she really didn't understand or whether this was another example of her dour humour. Aeryn certainly wasn't saying which.

"What, really?" John asked, incredulous.

"Is it another of your Erp things?" She cocked her head to one side and frowned. John had to admit that she was keeping up the impression of ignorance very well, and looking unbearably cute, too, whilst she was at it.

"Well, yes," He coughed and grinned. "But one I'd have thought that you'd know all about by now." Was that a hint of a grin starting to break across her beautiful face, wondered John? Yes, he decided, she'd definitely been stringing him along.

"Commander!" Interjected Pilot, his growing frustration clear in his voice. "Please may I suggest that you and Office… Sorry, Captain Sun discuss the naming of Rygel's ship later. I have the Morning Glory's Captain on a channel, wishing to speak with you. Now."

"Sorry Pilot," John apologized, suitably abashed.

"Put him through," Aeryn continued, suddenly calm and focused on playing the part of Moya's Captain.

After exchanging pleasantries and formalities for a frustratingly long time, Captain Xulfer of the Morning Glory finally put John and Aeryn through to their offspring.

"Hey mum, dad," greeted Deke, whilst Livvy grinned over his shoulder and nodded. As well as being older, Deke was also the more verbally outgoing of the two Sun-Crichton children. John had often teased Aeryn that Livvy got her taciturn nature from her mother, whilst Aeryn returned in kind that Livvy certainly didn't get her economy with words from her father, and that maybe he could learn something from his daughter.

"How ya doing, kids?" John asked, all goofy grin and chummy enthusiasm.

"Has everything been fine with your trip?" asked Aeryn, ever more pragmatic than John.

"Yeah, fine, mum," replied Deke, who had long ago worked out which parent it was safest to prioritize. "Ship's nice. All shiney."

"Yeah, it's all just peachy," confirmed Livvy echoing her brother's sentiments with a 'Dad-ism'. "Dad?"

"Hmm?" John responded, blissfully unaware of the trap he was stepping into by so doing.

"What  _is_  a peach?" she grinned and Deke turned and started prodding her, perhaps seeking an opening for a tickle, to which Livvy was quite susceptible. "Mom, tell him!" Livvy began to whine.

Aeryn was about to tell Livvy that she should fight her own battles at her age, before Deke stopped of his own volition and they turned their attention back to their parents. Livvy poked Deke in the ribs and he shrugged her off, focusing even more on the viewscreen.

"So everything's fine?" Aeryn asked instead. Her own harsh upbringing informed her determination to make them sort their argument out themselves.

"Oh yeah…" Deke confirmed. He grinned. "Apple-y"

"Uncle Rygel sends his love," Livvy put in, keen to continue to add to the conversation.

"He didn't say that," put in Deke with a frown.

"OK." Livvy conceded with a shrug. "But he has sent you some marjoules," Livvy grinned.

"You're kidding, right?" John asked, not sure whether to risk taking her seriously this time.

"No John, I asked him to," Aeryn fixed John with her most I've-no-sense-of-humour blank face. "I've developed quite an… urge for them."

John's jaw flapped for a moment whilst his brain tried to get his head round the possible implications of Aeryn's statement.

"Er, erm…" he began. Aeryn burst out laughing.

"Your face…." Aeryn managed to say.

"Don't worry, Dad, no marjoules," Deke rescued him.

"Not that we  _know_ of," Livvy put in.

John sighed and lapsed into silence for a while at having been taken for a ride twice, letting Aeryn lead the catch up with their children about their news and gossip since they had last spoken. All too soon, it was time for the call to end.

"See you in the morning, kids," John said.

"G'night, mum, dad," Livvy and Deke said together. "Love you."

"Fly safe, we love you too," Aeryn said, before closing the call.

John pulled Aeryn closer into an affectionate cuddle. "We've got good kids," he mumbled into her ear through a thick blanket of spiced hair.

"Superior breeding and training," she flipped back at him haughtily, before giving in to and returning the cuddle. "Mmm, John?" She mumbled after a few mircots.

"Yup?"

"That thing about the marjoules?" She said tentatively. She felt an immediate change in his body, even though he was trying not to show it. His stroking of her hair, for instance, had suddenly become much more precise.

"Yes?"

"You know I had my medical check-up with J'alark today, before third meal?" She felt his free hand lace fingers with hers. She was fairly sure from his body-language that he realised what she was leading up to.

"Well…." she couldn't decide quite what to say, and in the end she blurted it out. "There  _could_  be another little one. If we wanted."

"You mean…?" he spluttered.

"I'm pregnant, John." Aeryn replied, blurting it out, only a slight grin disturbing her otherwise calm demeanour. She really couldn't cope with drawing this sort of thing out. It was not in her nature and held too many bad memories of opportunities lost and decisions gone awry.

"We're going to have a baby!" John whooped, his mouth already running ahead of his brain.

"Actually, it's in stasis, so we need to decide the whether or when, but, essentially, yes," she replied, still nervous and uncertain as to how to discuss this. She'd been wondering all evening, since going for her medical, about how to bring this up, trying to find a good time, a good way to tell him. Frell, how come this sort of thing was so much more difficult than captaining Moya or being a Prowler pilot, she wondered to herself?

"Oh honey, that's fabulous news," he replied. It seemed to Aeryn that her fahrbot human had none of her problems dealing with this sort of thing. "Shall we tell the kids tomorrow?" he asked as he pulled her hand to his mouth and nibbled on her fingers. Well, at least she knew now that he was happy about it. She just wasn't so sure herself. It had been so long since Livvy was a baby. She was a little worried about the thought of having another one after so long, to say nothing of the responsibility and tiredness she knew would accompany it. She had the captaincy of Moya, and the care of all her crew, to worry about these days, and that seemed to her like quite enough to take up her time.

"Let's not rush," she replied. "First we have to talk about releasing the stasis." She'd deal with her concerns about the demands of everything else in her life later. But at least she had gotten through the thing she dreaded most, telling John. Mission successfully accomplished, she snuggled closer into John, the movie they had been watching long forgotten.


	4. Chapter 3

The mood in command that morning was grim. When Moya's sleep cycle ended Nybar had taken first watch, as was his custom. He had tried to hail the Morning Glory, but to no avail. After a few hundred microts, he had asked Pilot for assistance. After another couple of hundred microts, they alerted Aeryn to the silence from the Royal Yacht, interrupting her first meal. She had rushed to command, closely followed by John, their breakfasts abandoned and forgotten.

Now, three tense, heart-rending arns later, the Glory was finally within sensor range of Moya. The readings they were getting from the sensors were doing nothing to ease either John or Aeryn's concerns.

"The Hynerian vessel is still not responding to our hails, Captain. Neither is it showing any sign of movement," Pilot said matter-of-factly, trying, but failing, to keep the tone of his voice steady and business-like. The children were very special to him and Moya, being the offspring of two of their closest friends, members of their first crew after they had gained their freedom. The thought that anything might have happened to them was horrifying to them both.

"Their vessel does not appear to be in any immediate danger of collision with other bodies, and, so far, as we can detect, there is no obvious external damage." Pilot continued to move his claws across his console. "However, neither are there any external signs of life: The ship is showing no power outputs of any kind."

Aeryn stood, grim-faced, hands clamped to the central console. John stood just behind her, physically and emotionally steadying her by his presence. Nybar, Sikozu and numerous other crew worked at other consoles scattered around command, none yet willing to intrude more than brief, concerned glances towards the Captain and her husband.

"Are you detecting any other vessels in the system, Pilot?" Aeryn asked, her voice strained.

"There do not appear to be," Pilot replied.

"No, Captain, there is no other ship registering on my sensors," Nybar added.

"What's our ETA?" John asked. Pilot stifled a sigh. After over two decades, this was one Crichton-ism at least that Pilot knew very well, but it still didn't sound right to him.

"Approximately three quarters of an arn, Commander."

Aeryn set her face in a PK mask and turned to Nybar.

"Nybar, ready a transport pod and two Prowlers as escorts: I'll want four soldiers and J'alark to accompany me on the pod." Nybar nodded and left the bridge, talking into his comms as he went, already rounding up the people and materials she needed.

John gently gripped Aeryn's shoulders and slowly, giving her time to unclamp her hands from the console, turned her to face him.

"You're the Captain, honey: You need to stay in command, in case you're needed here. I'll go. Besides, there's… you know?" Aeryn knew he was referring to the stasis pregnancy, and she knew he knew what her thoughts on his being protective of her because of it would be. But she elected to argue a different point with him.

"Frell it John, those are my offspring on that ship: I will not stand here on Moya waiting for someone else to tell me what has happened to them," she hissed, her face set with a determination which would have given a Scarran cause to retreat. "Not even you!"

John swallowed hard. Aeryn had been a good captain of Moya. Her military upbringing alone meant that she understood well the need for the captain to take the strategic rather than the tactical lead in difficult situations. Then her time as Commandant of the Peacekeeper fleet in the war against the Kkore had taken her skills to a whole new level. She had never indulged herself by doing the "Star Trek" thing, putting herself into risky situations which could be dealt with just as well, perhaps better, by a subordinate and which might compromise her ability to lead the whole crew out of difficulty.

"Are you sure that's wise?" he questioned her gently. Their exchange had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the bridge crew. However, with the exception of Sikozu, who had stopped what she was doing and was looking towards her friends in concern, the others were all studiously ignoring the exchange and ostentatiously continuing with their duties.

"No, it's not, but…" John could see how torn she was, knew well what she was struggling with, as he felt the same.

"Then if it's not wise, I'm coming with you. If things are gonna go South, we ought to be together," he replied, gently touching his forehead to hers. He had genuinely surprised her: She had thought he was going to launch into a longer argument as to why she shouldn't go, but instead…. This. She wasn't quite sure how to respond, but understood: If their situations had been reversed, had he been the captain, she felt sure the outcome would have been similar. After a microt, Aeryn drew her thoughts together and replied.

"Fine, John," she said, before pulling back slightly and activating her comms. "Nybar, when you've prepped the crews, please return to Command to take over here: John and I will take the transport pod across, Captain out." Aeryn understood well that Nybar knew better than to question her orders on something like this, for which she was quite grateful. She didn't need an argument with her second officer in lieu of one with her husband.

Aeryn turned fully now to look out through the view port. There was still no visual contact with the Morning Glory, and likely wouldn't be for another half arn. Coming to another decision, she turned to Sikozu.

"Sikozu, you have Command until Nybar returns, John and I need to get ready," and with that, without looking back, she strode from command towards their quarters. John stood for a moment, turned and shrugged at Sikozu, giving her a "she's the boss" resigned expression, before hurrying after his wife, off command and towards their quarters.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Aeryn piloted the transport pod out of Moya's hanger in a graceful arc, which belied its utilitarian bulk. They were following the two Prowlers, which would be escorting them across the twenty motras towards the Morning Glory. Between the two Prowler pilots, herself, and the three commandos behind her in the pod, nearly half of the ex-Peacekeeper soldiers aboard Moya were committed to this mission. Aeryn knew that if the Glory had been attacked, then to split their limited defensive capabilities like this was unwise. However, in the old days, they had defended Moya with no more than her, D'Argo and their small crew of enthusiastic amateurs, so their current defences aboard Moya could be seen as having strength in depth, relative to back then. Besides, she had known Nybar for around fifteen cycles now. In that time Aeryn had grown to respect the ex-PK immensely: No pirates were likely to catch him napping on command. No, Aeryn was confident that Nybar would be taking every precaution while they were gone, and would certainly comm them at the first sign of visitors or any other unexpected development. On the other hand, as John might say, Aeryn was well aware that four Peacekeepers, one human and an Interon medtech was quite a small force with which to board a ship, which was harbouring unknown hazards. When she was a Peacekeeper soldier herself, she had been used to far less favourable circumstances. But now she was more, not the least of which was a mother, she was less willing to put her life or those of her shipmates on the line against unknown odds.

Before she had time to dwell on matters further, the pod was drawing alongside the Glory and she had to give over all of her concentration to the matter at hand. It was a fine looking ship: A little small by Moya's standards, although slightly larger than a Vigilante. Aeryn thought that it looked as though it was designed for good looks and speed, rather than to be any use in combat. The vessel reminded Aeryn a little of Talyn shortly after he had been born, both in terms of size and in elegant functionality, although not in armament of course, or rather the lack thereof.

Shadowed by the Prowlers, Aeryn took the pod on a quick circuit of the Glory, checking for any signs of either life or of combat damage. On the far side of the Glory, she was disturbed to see what looked like a large burn mark, as though a high-energy weapon has discharged against the hull. She pointed it out to John.

"Geez, what's that?" he asked through pursed lips.

"Peacekeeper immobilizer pulses leave a mark like that," Aeryn explained, before heading for an external docking port: If the Glory had a docking bay, no one aboard was opening it, so their pod wouldn't be using it today.

"Peacekeeper immobilizer…?" began John, before realising how stupid he would likely sound if he carried on in the same manner, simply echoing her remarks. Aeryn clicked the pods comms open.

"Captain to both Prowlers, keep circling the Hynerian ship. We'll keep personal comms open. Moya, Prowlers, if you seen anything suspicious, anything at all, let us know," she commanded, before turning her attention to the final approach. Of course, she knew her commands were unnecessary. Everyone knew what was expected of them, but she felt she had to give them, nonetheless, if only to distract her own thoughts away from her children and to the tactical matter at hand.

With the gentlest of thuds, Aeryn brought the pod up against the hull of the Glory. She leapt from her seat and made for the pod's door. John was already there, working his way through the docking cycle, while the three commandos stood around him, their pulse rifles already drawn. J'alark stood a little back from the door, hoping nervously from foot to foot, her hair already bright red from the stress. Aeryn knew that J'alark probably didn't want to be on this mission. The Interon, so like their late shipmate Jool, didn't cope well when guns or other dangers were involved. But if there were injured survivors aboard the Glory or if any of the boarding party were injured, then having her on hand, rather than waiting back on Moya, might make all the difference between life and death.

After a few microts, John completed sealing the docking port and actuated the opening mechanisms. The doors to both the pod and the Glory swung open with a hiss as the air pressures equalised. Everyone in the pod could now see and hear that the Glory was silent and in total darkness.

"Pittach, you stay here and guard the pod," Aeryn ordered one of the commandos as she stepped past her. Pittach was a young female who had been no older than a cadet during the Scarran-Peacekeeper and Kkore wars. Pittach nodded, stern-faced. Despite her relative youth, she was a very competent soldier, a couple of cycles older than Aeryn had been when she had first met John, and neither John or Aeryn had any qualms about leaving her alone to guard the pod. Aeryn drew her pulse pistol, flicked on the torch she already had strapped to it, and followed the first commando through the door.

John drew Winona and flicked on his own torch, the beam dancing crazily around inside the airlock of the Glory. He motioned J'alark to follow Aeryn, which, with obvious reluctance, the Interon did. John and the remaining commando followed her into the dark airlock and then into the corridor beyond, bringing up the rear of the small boarding party. Apart from the darkness, the inside of the Glory, with it's clean, white, spacious passageways, was the most "Star Trek" like ship John had ever seen in his time away from earth.

They moved into the sumptuous, but eerily quiet, corridors of the Hynerian yacht, making for the bridge. Aeryn thought the command center was probably as good a place as any to try to find their answers, so that was where they were headed.

Aeryn was proud of the way her companions moved, like the well-drilled Marauder team that they were, that they could have been, had they been serving Peacekeepers. After all, of their number, it was only J'alark who could make no claim to having some form of PK commando training. Over the cycles, even John had learned from Aeryn how to behave like a proficient warrior.

After a couple of junctions, Aeryn called a halt and pulled out a small data pad. John and the two commandos took up defensive postures, whilst Aeryn peered at the downloaded floor plans of the Glory on her pad.

"This way," she said, waving twice with her pistol whilst stowing the pad back in the pocket on her left thigh, even as she began to lead the group down one of the corridors. She was anxious to get to the bridge and get answers: So far she mostly had just questions, and they were not comforting.

Three more junctions and two manually-forced doors later, they came to the door leading to the Glory's command. And still there had been no sign of the crew, or clue as to what might have happened to them. As her mind ran through a list of unpleasant possibilities as to what might have happened to the ship and thus to her offspring, her demeanor was as quiet as the dark corridors of the Glory.

Aeryn and one of the commandos covered John as he tried to force open the door to the bridge, while the other commando kept watch up and down the corridor. J'alark fidgeted her weight from foot to foot and tried to imagine herself somewhere else entirely. With a squeak from the mechanism, John finally got the door to open a dozen denches. He stood back a moment to gather his strength and finish the job but, before he could stop her, Aeryn wriggled her slim frame through the gap and disappeared into the darkness beyond.

"Dammit, woman!" John cursed after her, as he and the Peacekeeper beside him hurriedly set about trying to force the doors far enough apart for them to follow.

The bridge was compact, with work stations for a pilot, a captain and two other crew. It was as dark and deserted as the rest of the ship. Aeryn immediately made for the captain's console. As with the other positions, the seat and workstation was obviously designed for the short but wide frame of a Hynerian, forcing Aeryn to stand as she worked. Unstrapping her torch from her pulse weapon, she laid her gun down on the seat and began inspecting the console. Some things were obvious to her as a pilot who had flown many ships from several different cultures, but other things she just guessed. The translator microbes were not much use with written Hynerian. After pressing a few buttons, she managed to bring the console to life. A few buttons and switches later, just as John came up beside her, and she brought light to the whole bridge.

John and J'alark raised their hands to their eyes, temporarily blinded by the sudden light, whilst the two commandos snapped down the tinted visors on their helmets and took up covering positions in the doorway.

"Will you wait up in the future? Or at least tell me what you're planning?" John admonished her, irritation obvious in his voice and body language.

"Fine, John," she replied apparently ignoring him, as her fingers and attention were still centered on the console in front of her. "Whatever…" she added in English, with the hint of a smirk playing around her lips at her own use of the English brush-off.

"Don't you play that game with me, missy…" John said in what she recognised as one of his serious tones. Her rush to enter the bridge, no matter the risk to herself, was clearly not yet forgiven.

Aeryn stopped worked for a couple of microts and centered her attention on him, locking her eyes with his.

"John, can we do this later? Right now I want to find out what's become of Deke and Livvy." She turned her attention back to the console as she corrected herself. "I need to find out."

"Of course, sorry," he apologized with a nod and a submissive lowering of his eyes. "Anything yet?"

"No…. hang on, this seems to be ship wide comms….." she said, tapping on another set of controls. "This is Captain Aeryn Sun-Crichton, of the leviathan Moya. Is there anyone aboard?" There was silence for a several microts and Aeryn was just about to move on to try something else when they heard a babble of voices, all shouting at once. Then one of the voices hushed the others into silence.

"We're in the galley, tied up!" The single voice said in Hynerian. The speaker sounded a little like Rygel, Aeryn thought to herself.

Aeryn had to stop herself from rushing off to the galley straight away, but the Peacekeeper officer in her knew better: She had to try and establish what had happened first, find out what she and her team might be facing down there. Or perhaps even on the way down there.

"Who are you, what happened here?" She demanded into the comms.

"I'm Captain Xulfer, and this is my ship," The pomposity was definitely Hynerian, Aeryn thought to herself. "We were attacked by pirates, but we haven't heard anything from our attackers for arns. I think they might have gone."

"Was anyone hurt?" John asked with some urgency.

"No, not really, nothing serious…." replied Xulfer, although there seemed to Aeryn to be a hint of uncertainty or something like it in his voice.

"And our offspring?"

"They were not hurt…" again, Aeryn thought that there was a strange edge to Xulfer's reply, as though he were not telling them everything.

"Can you come to us, on the bridge?" Aeryn asked. She was reluctant to move her team from their position. Apart from the increased risk of ambush relative to defending a fixed position, she didn't want to relinquish control of the command deck until she was sure the ship was secure. Their group was too small to risk breaking up if there might still be hostiles aboard.

"No," Xulfer grumbled. "They tied us up down here!"

Aeryn sighed. She didn't like it, but it seemed she had little choice. "Fine. We'll come to you, Sun out." She snapped off the communications channel.

"Officer Dalart," Aeryn addressed the more senior of her remaining Peacekeepers. "Hold here, keep comms open with us, and don't let anyone in except us. If in doubt, use lethal force." Dalart, an eager, well-built male of around 30 cycles, nodded, and stood ready to close the door once the others had left.

Aeryn had to draw on all of her Peacekeeper training to stop herself from rushing to the galley. She ordered the remaining commando in their small group to take point instead of her in order to ensure they approached the galley with at least some caution, and she insisted that John take the rear, knowing that was the only way she could stop him from rushing on ahead. At least now they had the ship's lighting to see by, reducing the chances of them being caught in a simple ambush.

After a tense couple of hundred microts, Aeryn called her depleted team to a halt and checked the ship's schematics on her data pad: They were there, at the galley. She gestured to the others to indicate the door that led to the galley, and then that J'alark should fall back a dozen paces. The Interon didn't need to be told twice.

As J'alark scurried back down the corridor, Aeryn took up position, pistol drawn, to one side of the door, with John standing to the other side. The remaining commando activated the door mechanism and Aeryn waited only long enough to ensure that no one immediately fired through the door before she swung inside, and was followed a microt later by her husband.

The small galley had been trashed, and two small knots of figures were bundled within: Four, no, five Hynerians were lined up along one wall, whereas two Sebaceans sat, tied back to back, closer to the door. The prisoners all began talking at once, plunging the room into a cacophony of demands.

Despite the noise, Aeryn heard John's sharp intake of breath behind her, matching her own sentiments: The Sebaceans were Peacekeeper guards by the look of them, all black leather and attitude, probably sent along by Rygel to protect their children. But of Deke and Livvy there was no sign.

Whilst Aeryn and the remaining Peacekeeper from Moya's crew stood guard, their weapons drawn, John and J'alark, who had quickly and eagerly returned to the relative safety of the main group, set about the business of releasing the crew from their restraints and checking them for injuries.

"We didn't see them coming… they.. Err.. knocked out the ship and all of us… no idea what it was," the old Hynerian Captain blustered as John untied him.

At that point one of the two, still bound, Peacekeepers interrupted the old Hynerian. "It was a Peacekeeper immobilizer pulse: Fried the ship and us with it. Once they were in range, we never stood a chance."

John and Aeryn were both shocked: They thought they had an understanding with Peacekeeper High Command these days, far less full pardons and the mutual protection of Hyneria and the Scarrans against anyone interfering with them or their family and friends.

"High Command wouldn't dare…!" began Aeryn.

"Bastards!" contributed John, his old feelings towards the Peacekeeper establishment bubbling to the surface.

"They were Sebaceans, but not PKs," Captain Xulfer offered with some enthusiasm as they released the Hynerian from his bonds.

"I agree, I don"t think they were Peacekeepers, Commandant," put in one of the PKs, using Aeryn's last formal rank as if to emphasize the high regard in which she was held, by him at least.

"They were locking us all up in here, then suddenly, they grabbed the two kids and dragged them out. Why, I don't know," continued Xulfer.

"I have an idea why," said the other Peacekeeper hostage. John and Aeryn's attention turned to him in an instant.

"And you are?" asked Aeryn, perhaps more sharply than she intended.

"Officer Nellon, Commandant," he replied, not apparently concerned by her brusque manner. That was no surprise: Even in these more enlightened times, Peacekeeper officers still often took a brusque approach with their subordinates. "Sub-officer Hillark and I were assigned to act as bodyguards for your offspring on the trip from Hyneria." He gave a nod to indicate that the other man was the Hillark of whom he spoke.

"So, what do you think happened?" John demanded of Nellon.

"Well, we didn't hear the pirates say anything, not to start with. Then your offspring started whispering to each other in that funny language of yours," Nellon nodded towards John to indicate which language he meant. "That's when it happened."

"What happened?"

"I was just getting to that. It was when they heard your offspring speaking."

"What?" Demanded John, getting increasingly frustrated. Over the cycles he had grown used to it being his role to be the confusing person in conversations and he didn't like his position being usurped.

"That they took them," supplied Nellon. "But there's something else. The pirates. They started speaking themselves, then. And I think it was the same language that your offspring had been using. They were speaking Ooman."

John and Aeryn exchanged a long, quizzical look. John shook his head. "I've, umm, a bad feeling about this," John said at last. Aeryn nodded, slowly, struggling to stay in control. Her face had turned almost as pale as that of a Nebari.


	5. Chapter 4

A select group had gathered on Moya's command to discuss what to do next. Aeryn and John were joined by Sikozu, Chiana, Lieutenant Nybar, Officer Dalart and the two Peacekeepers from the Morning Glory. Nellon and Hillark had elected to stay with Moya, regarding it as a matter of Honour that they should assist in retrieving the Sun-Crichton offspring. Xulfer had taken the Morning Glory back towards Hyneria at maximum speed, carrying a short message from John and Aeryn for Rygel.

"They have an immobilizer pulse?" asked Nybar of no one in particular. Then he added, more quietly. "We have those on our Marauders."

"We'll hunt them down, use one on them," suggested Dalart, full of angry enthusiasm.

"Hmm. We should call for help from Peacekeeper High Command, or even the Hynerians. We don't know what we're facing." Nybar responded, giving the benefit of his more extensive experience.

"It will take some weekens for Dominar Rygel to respond," Nellon replied.

John shook his head. "They're our kids. We're not waiting for back up." He said with remarkable calmness for him. Aeryn remained silent, waiting for everyone's inputs and assessing her options.

Nybar nodded in understanding. "Then we should send out our Marauders in the standard cross hatch search pattern."

"That'd be fine, if we had lots of time," protested John.

"Then what…?" began Nybar.

"We need to use every option at our disposal," Aeryn broke her silence at last. All eyes turned to her. "We'll send a message to any Peacekeeper ships in comms range, requesting help, but we're not going to wait for them to get here or to hear back from Rygel. And we'll send out the Marauders, but I'd like to suggest a modification to the standard search strategy…."

As Aeryn outlined her plan, incorporating an idea she had learned from reading the books and watching the movies she had brought from Earth, the two newly arrived Peacekeepers looked on with ever-growing respect. Even John was astonished at her ideas and the number of possibilities she seemed to have considered. Yes, she had truly become so much more than Officer Sun of the Pleisars, he reflected.

"There is, however, a potential problem because that will leave Moya with very few crew, too few to repel a determined attack by the number of soldiers that Nellon and Hillark described," Aeryn concluded, inviting any of the others to contribute. She cast her eyes around the other Peacekeepers for input, but it was Sikozu who spoke up.

"Actually, I have an idea that might help us with that," Sikozu said, evidently immensely pleased with herself for having something to contribute. "As many of you know, I was once employed as an expert on Leviathans, and I believe one of Moya's own systems should be able to help us defend her against a boarding party, if we are well prepared….."

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Chiana entered Command, holding a plate of food she had brought for John. The crew remaining aboard Moya was much diminished, what with both their Marauders, their two transport pods and their Prowlers as escorts, out running sweeps looking for the pirates. John, as both acting Captain and the father of the two missing offspring, had taken it on himself to pull long watches in Command. Chiana, in addition to her own work, had taken it upon herself to make sure that John was kept fed and watered.

"Thanks, Chi," he remarked with a tired smile, as she set the plate down beside him on the console.

"You're welcome old man," she replied, coming up behind him and taking the liberty of rubbing some of the tension out of his shoulders.

"Hmm, s'nice….. How's it going?"

"Those modifications to the neural cluster? All done."

"Thanks again."

"Thank Pilot, Sikozu and the DRDs, Crichton. It was all a mystery to me," she grinned. "I just plugged in some wires."

"And is everything stowed away?"

"Hope so!" She laughed. "Except your meal, obviously. And the trill bat droppings." John even laughed at that. It was the first time she'd heard him laugh in days. He took her hand in one of his, pulling it round to his mouth where he gave the back of it a gentle kiss.

"Thanks for helping make it all happen, Chi."

"No problem, old man."

"Time to call Aeryn, then. Pilot?"

"Commander." Pilot replied, as his image appeared on the clamshell.

"Can you open a channel to Aeryn, please. Broadest band transmission, so the others can pick it up?" It wasn't just the other ships from Moya who they wanted to pick up their signal: They had now entered the one of the last, most desperate, stages in their search-plan and they were hoping the pirates would also hear their message and take the bait.

"I am opening the channel now, Commander, as requested." Pilot replied.

"Science vessel Moya to Captain Sun, respond please."

"John? Is everything alright?" Aeryn sounded anxious: Although they both knew that their exchange was part of a public act to try to entrap the pirates, she did not need to fake the genuine concern in her voice. After all, if their trap worked, John and the others still aboard Moya would be in very real danger.

"Hey, Aeryn. Afraid we've had a major power failure. We are dead in space. We're going to need you to detour to a commerce planet and pick up some parts for us."

"But that will take another weeken. Will everyone be alright?" She asked. She really did sound concerned.

"Yeah, we'll all be fine: We'll just go into power-saving mode. The ten of us'll just hole up in the central chamber and tell each other ghost stories."

"That almost sounds like fun," Aeryn replied with what sounded like a chuckle. She was certainly playing her part well, thought both John and Chiana.

John snorted. "Yeah… right. Pilot'll let you know what we need for the repairs: He knows better than any of us."

"Fine. You all keep safe."

"You too. Fly safe, Captain. John out," he concluded, flipping the channel back to Pilot.

"Well, what now?" asked Chiana, lifting herself up to sit on the console.

"Now. Now we wait, bait," he said, tapping her on the nose.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

"Commander Crichton? We are being approached on stealth trajectory by an unidentified ship," Pilot hailed John over a secure comms channel.

"Understood. Only scan them or hail them if it's obvious we should have seen them. And let everyone else know we've got company," said John, as he dropped the book he had been flicking through. He had been trying and failing to distract himself from all of his worries by reading. In addition to movies and a TV, Aeryn had acquired several boxes of Earth-books during their brief visit to John's home planet, covering everything from child rearing to military history and from human medicine to literature. Aeryn had amazed John over the years with how much she loved both learning to read his language and learning about his culture. But now, Aeryn was not aboard and it was him who had been leafing through their small library. With barely a glance at the now discarded, well-worn novel, John snatched up a pulse rifle and the safety harness that he had earlier laid on his bed, and jogged out into the corridor towards Command.

"Shipwide announcement: We are being approached by a possibly hostile, unidentified craft. Please take up your assigned defensive positions." Pilot's ever-calm voice came over John's comm.

Reaching Command, John quickly slipped into his previously positioned safety harness before securing himself to the console. If it was the English-speaking pirates who had taken Deke and Livvy, they would all likely be in for a rough half an arn. He only hoped that they would see that Moya was adrift on minimal systems and would thus decide not use their immobilizer pulse. If they did, things could get very painful for them all, not least Moya and Pilot, as well as complicating the Moyan's plans for defending themselves.

"They're coming alongside us now. I believe they are going to dock with the hatch on tier 13, Hammond side," Pilot informed the crew. "Once they are aboard, all shipwide announcements will cease."

"Ooh, Strangers from the outside," John said to himself in a silly voice as he lifted Winona from the console beside him. With a lick to check his Chakkan oil cartridge was full, he loaded, checked the power setting and holstered his pistol. Then he quickly made one last comm.

"Sikozu, Chi, you in position?"

"Yes," came Sikozu's blunt response.

"Yeah, old man," Chiana added with a grunt, before Pilot"s voice came over the comm, interrupting anything either of them might have said next.

"The unknown vessel has docked with Moya. Good luck everyone." It didn't look as though their guests were going to announce themselves, suggesting they were indeed the pirates. But fortunately, it didn't look as though they were going to use their immobilizer pulse, either. For once, fate was playing fair, John mused, then instantly regretted the thought, swearing under his breath at his own stupidity. After what seemed like a hundred microts, Pilot appeared on the clamshell in Command.

"Commander, my DRDs detect three groups of four armed intruders. The groups are spreading out across the ship."

"Thanks, Pilot, let everyone else know of their movements on the closed comm channels." Twelve intruders: Even had all their Peacekeepers been aboard, that number of hostiles would have been a challenge to contain, and they still didn't know how many more pirates were aboard the attackers' ship or what their capabilities were in combat. As it was, the skeleton crew aboard Moya were not only outnumbered, they were outclassed. Most of them were Interon scientists, so only a few of them were used to holding a weapon. If the intruders continued to wander Moya unchecked, it was only a matter of time before they started coming across Moyans, no matter how well they hid.

"Commander, one group is near hammond side hanger 2, another is near the docking port on treblin side, level 13 and the third is approaching command. I recommend we institute the Captain's plan immediately," Pilot said, continuing to relay feedback from Moya's DRDs.

"OK, Pilot, let's do it." John replied. It was now or never to see whether Sikozu's cunning plan would work.

After another 30 or so microts, the lights dimmed briefly, signaling to the remaining Moyans to prepare themselves. John dived under the console and, as he did so, he glimpsed a group of the intruders arriving at the door to command, the gun barrels of the leading two pirates sweeping the room as their two compatriots moved through the door. Four to one: If they spotted him now, John knew he was toast. John held his breath, waiting for Sikozu to spring the trap. It still might not work, but if they had waited any longer to implement the plan, it would certainly have been too late for John with those odds.

At that moment the intruders flew into the air, whilst John felt himself thrown against the underside of the console. Sikozu's timing in reversing the polarity on Moya's gravity bladders had been perfect, at least from John's perspective, and the effects of her plan had been at least as good as John had dared to hope for. There were shouts of alarm from the intruders, followed immediately by cries of pain as they hit the ceiling of Command. The intruders let off several random shots, more from surprise than anything else. Then Sikozu must have returned the polarity of the gravity bladders to normal, as the intruders fell heavily back the floor, to another chorus of shouts and screams.

John released his harness from the console and peered around to check on the intruders. They were still stunned and indisposed. He guessed he had at least a few microts to secure them before they recovered their composure. Taking cover behind the console, he pulled his pulse pistol from its holster to cover them. From their groans, John suspected that there might be at least one broken bone in the group.

"Push your weapons away from you and no sudden moves!" he shouted across at them. As he saw one or two of them comply, he added in a mock-serious tone, "The antigravity sickness will wear off momentarily." Hearing one or two more groans, possibly at recognition of his quote from Toy Story, he tapped his comm badge, saying, "John here, I've got four of the intruders in Command. Can anyone get up here and give me a hand!"

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Aeryn lifted the Marauder out of the large crater, turned towards Moya and cranked the engines up to full. As the asteroid, where they had been hiding for the last few arns, rapidly fell behind them the sounds of the engines protesting drowned out the sounds of her team of Peacekeepers preparing for battle.

After just a few hundred microts Moya's elegant outline came into sight through the Marauder's forward view portal. Aeryn smiled in satisfaction, noting that, from the Treblin side that they were approaching from, they would be hidden from the pirates. Once the pirates were docked, Moya and Pilot had, as planned, gently reoriented themselves in order to hide the approaching Marauders and their companions from the pirate's ship.

Aeryn trimmed the speed of the Marauder just in time to allow them to maneuver around the Leviathan without losing precious microts by approaching too slowly. Flipping the Marauder around and through the Leviathan's tails, she had barely a microt to prepare her shot once the pirate ship came into view. She needed no more time. Her immobilizer pulse streaked away from the Marauder's nose, striking the pirate ship close to what she took to be it's engine nacelles. She didn't wait for the blue lightning of the pulse to dissipate before swinging in to dock at the closest docking port to the one occupied by the pirate ship. The Prowlers could deal with the pirate ship now, if it undocked. She and her commandos were needed on Moya. As per Aeryn's plan, she would lead the first team to board. If the effects of the immobilizer pulse extended to Moya, they could not afford for their teams to be effected as well, so the order was that none of their other teams would board until Aeryn had finished shooting at the attacker's ship.

"Aeryn here," she said, snapping open the comms to her other ships and keeping the communication suitably cryptic, lest any enemies be listening. "All clear, initiating Dekka two."

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

"Nellon here, Commander", came the reply to John's call for help. "My team has just docked, Hillark and I will be with you in 50 microts." John breathed a sigh of relief: 50 microts would see the two Peacekeepers arriving to relieve him, which should even the odds somewhat and make it a lot more certain that his prisoners would remain prisoners.

"We have hit their ship with our immobilizer pulse and are docked," came Aeryn's voice from the other Marauder as soon as Nellon finished speaking. "Any available combat-trained crew come to tier 13 hatch, Hammond side, to support my team."

After a few more microts, Officer Dalart's spoke over the comms, slightly out of breath. "We've secured four intruders near the quarters on tier ten. Minor injuries on both sides. More on their side, though," John could almost hear the smirk in Dalart's voice at the added detail. He seemed justifiably proud that his team had come out on top of the intruders in their brief skirmish.

Aeryn led her small contingent of Peacekeepers towards the airlock where the enemy ship was docked. Flicking on the torches strapped to their pulse weapons, they stormed the airlock and, in pairs, spread out into the darkness of the small, immobilized craft. The ship was cramped and cluttered and not at all like Aeryn was used to.

Over the comms she heard one of her teams confirm that they had secured what appeared to be the bridge, along with three stunned, apparently Sebacean crew. It didn't take long to locate and detain the other three seemingly-Sebacean crew aboard the ship, as they, too had all been stunned by Aeryn's attack. It took considerably longer for the boarding party to confirm, to Aeryn's satisfaction, that there was no sign of the children aboard. Indeed, there was no sign that they ever had been there – not even a single item of clothing or other artifact linked to the children could be found.

On Moya's command, John allowed himself the smallest smile as Nellon and Hillark restrained the four prisoners. Aeryn's plan had worked to perfection. When he had met her, she would never have imagined setting such a devious trap. It had only been three days before that she had led the Marauders, Prowlers and transport pods on their a search for the pirates, taking with them most of those aboard Moya who were skilled in combat. But, after two days of searching, they had secreted themselves on a nearby large, heavily cratered asteroid which Moya had surveyed a monen earlier. And there they had waited, until Moya had arrived a few hundred metras- away and begun to pretend to be vulnerable.

"So, which ones did you see aboard the Glory, then?" John asked Nellon, striding over with a large grin stuck to his face. The prisoners certainly seemed to be speaking English, from what John had overheard, plus their uniforms, insignia and equipment was all vaguely reminiscent of what the US military had been wearing and using last time John was on Earth. He allowed himself a smile at the thought that their appearance was not dissimilar to that seen on the TV show Stargate, which he had caught a little of when back on Earth. Indeed, thought John, the modus operandi of these pirates wasn't that dissimilar to that sometimes adopted by the humans on that TV show, although their actions were of course somewhat less heroic when viewed from John's current perspective.

"Umm, none of them, I'm afraid, sir," Nellon admitted. John's grin slipped away.

"None…?" John asked.

"None," Hillark confirmed, once he had looked, carefully, a second time, destroying the last vestiges of John's grin.

"Frell!" John hissed.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

It was well into the normal sleep cycle when Aeryn was finally satisfied that Moya was secured and she was able to return to her quarters. She was not surprised to find that John was still up. Evidently, he had been busy until very recently, too.

"What are we going to do with them, John?" Aeryn asked, shimmying out of her leather vest and hanging it by the door

"Why ask me? You're the Captain," he snapped back in frustration from the couch onto which he had just thrown himself, hands over his forehead. She frowned at him, unbuckling her gunbelt and hanging it beside her vest. She scowled: He could be so frelling annoying at times.

"Because this is your home, and they are your children, too. And it seems our attackers may be your people," she retorted, glowering at him. John bit his lip, realizing he had overstepped what was acceptable.

"Sorry, babe, I didn't mean it to come out like that." He apologized as he stood and smiled wanly. He took her shoulders in his hands and squeezed, trying to be reassuring. "Just frustrated is all. What do you think we should do?"

"I think you should talk to them again, find out what they know. The kidnapping, the violence: If they are Oomans, they do not seem much like the Oomans that I know," and then, she added with just the hint of a smile. "To say nothing of the fact that such a lesser species should not be able to travel out here at all. Far too primitive," he smiled back at that remark.

"K, but they've not been forthcoming so far. I don't reckon they'll say much. Not without encouragement."

"Oh, I can arrange encouragement for them, John. Do not worry about that," she responded with a grim countenance.

John nodded solemnly. He guessed that she probably could and would.


	6. Chapter 5

Captain John Kovack, 82nd Airborne division, currently attached to the USAF Rapid Capabilities Group, stirred and sat up. He hadn't been sleeping anyway, and that was nothing to do with the hardness of the floor of the alien cell in which he found himself. He hadn't seen or heard from the rest of his team since they had been taken, and that worried him. He knew this was a big ship, and their captors could just be keeping them apart, but who knew what these aliens were capable of? He knew that several of his team had injuries including numerous broken bones and he had no idea how the aliens would react to such injuries: Would they give his injured aid, leave them to suffer or treat them worse, maybe kill them, if they were injured?

The crew of the alien ship had really done a number on him and his team, almost like they had known they were coming and had been waiting. Damn, of course, it was so obvious now. It was a trap all along: They'd gone and walked into a trap, like a bunch of greenhorns. He almost had time to curse himself for his stupidity before he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. They sounded like heavy boots, but whoever was wearing them had a lightness about their step which belied their choice of footwear. He peered through the deep gloom of the cell, through the lattice work door, to try to make out who was there. Although he was sure someone was standing there watching him, he could not see them.

From the other side of the cell door Aeryn, with her superior night vision, assessed the man who John had identified as the most senior officer on the captured ship. She had come to get some answers. She thought she had met his sort before, not least on her brief sojourn on Earth, and she knew that he was unlikely to willingly cooperate. But she was determined to get answers and, although he might have been trained as a soldier for a few years, she had been learning her trade for her whole life. And, courtesy of her time as an assassin and at the hands of such people as the Scarrans, that had included many much harder lessons in interrogation than he would ever have known. She called to Pilot to raise the lighting in his cell by three radions.

After maybe a minute, Kovack heard a series of sounds from the corridor, which he took to be the aliens' language, and immediately the lights came up in his cell. The illumination wasn't daylight bright, far from it, and, in a way he was glad, as that would have rendered him blind and at a disadvantage for a moment. No, the light level was more like that of a nightlight in a kid's bedroom, throwing sinister shadows across everything he saw.

What he saw included a female-looking alien who stood beyond the cell door, glaring at him with a stare that could freeze hell.

She looked human, tall, young, slim, dressed all in black leather. Leather pants and vest, and a big, black sidearm strapped to her thigh. And, of course, those long, heavy, masculine black boots, which he had heard walking up to his cell, boots which shouted "fuck you" rather than "fuck me". Her long, black hair was tied back in a severe business-like way. She clearly had a thing about the colour black, Kovack mused. She was a looker, in an unconventional kind of way. Dark eyes, long nose, high cheekbones thrown into dark shadow. But she had the darkest, grimmest stare he'd seen since at least boot camp. Kovack reckoned from the way she looked, from the way she was looking at him, that this was unlikely to be any sort of social call. She waved her hand to one side of the door, and the grating slid aside, just long enough for her to enter his cell.

Kovack rolled onto his knees, just as she spat out what to him sounded like a series of tones and clicks. She stood, hands on slender hips, as though waiting for a reply. Her words seemed to be a question or a demand, but he had no idea what she was saying. She sighed in frustration, tapped a small metallic badge on her tunic, above her left breast (nice breasts, he thought, not too big, not too small) and made a few more unintelligible noises, before, to his shock, speaking to him in what seemed to be perfect English.

"Get up," Although the words were familiar to Kovack, there was not a hint of friendliness in her tone. Kovack eased from his knees to his feet. She could only be half his weight, if that. If he waited for the right moment, he should be able to take her easily, and if he could get the gun, then he stood a chance of getting out, then getting his people away. He grinned at her.

"Gee, you're the first person I've met out here who speaks English, where'd you…"

"What do you want?" Aeryn interrupted, again in English. She was speaking aggressively, but not shouting, dredging up her PK training to keep the lid on her fury. Kovack wondered if she was speaking quietly because she didn't want to wake anyone. After all, the hour was late: How considerate of her. The fewer people up and awake, the easier his escape plan should work. First, he'd see where this conversation might be going, though, gather some intel.

"Captain John Kovack, serial number…" he didn't have time to finish before she snapped her gun out of it's holster and had it pointed at his head in a steady, two handed grip. All in one smooth, rapid move, Kovack noted with professional respect. She'd obviously practiced that draw a few times.

"I don't care what your name is," Aeryn said, her manner as cold as a frozen Alaskan lake. "What were you doing on my ship?"

"Hey, lady, we heard a distress call, we came to help," Kovack insisted, holding his hands up defensively.

"Bushlit," she said. Kovack frowned for a second, before comprehension dawned. So, her English wasn't perfect. Interesting. He wondered for a second where she had learned it. He began to smirk, and he saw a look of rage cross her face as he did so. Excellent. Angry people make mistakes, Any moment now he was going to get his chance, and she wouldn't know what hit her: What hit her would be a captain in the elite 82nd Airborne. There was a movement off to one side of the cell, which seemed to catch a part of her attention, at almost the same moment as her arms dipped and she started to say something in anger. Kovack saw the moment he had been waiting. He made his move, twisting to one side even as his arm and leg shot out to trip and spin her.

Kovack blinked at the deck plating into which his nose was pressed: Geez that hurt. He assessed his position. He was face down, and she was kneeling on him, her knee pressing between his shoulder blades. The cold barrel of her black side arm was pressed against the back of his head. How the hell did that happen, he wondered? At that moment, a small, squat yellow drone, the size and shape of a day pack, rolled past his line of sight, then he felt a sharp jab to his arm. Geez, what had they done to him? Injected him with some sort of ….. Poison? Anesthetic? Mind-altering drug? What? The woman spoke again, first a few words in her own language, then abruptly back to what seemed to be English again.

"Listen to me, Kovack: This is my ship, I am the Captain here. There is not a single member of my crew who would object if I spaced you. Well, maybe my husband, but, all things considered, I do not think he would object much. So you will answer my questions. A weeken ago your people attacked a diplomatic ship and took two very important people prisoner: Those people are under the special protection of the three main powers in this region of space. You understand so far?"

"Ugh." he grunted, as he options for more detailed conversation were limited by the deck plating in his face.

"So you do as I say, or I might turn you over to the care of one of those powers. If I do that, you will end up wishing I had spaced you. Do you still understand?"

"Ugh," he grunted again.

"Good. Now, there is something else you ought to consider: Those two people, the ones that your people took. They are my offspring." And with that, Kovack felt something, her hand, most likely, slam into the back of his head, the force of the impact breaking his nose against the deck plating. He was lucky the blow hadn't killed him, one way or another, he reflected.

Satisfied that she had established sufficient dominance in the interrogation, Aeryn stood up and Kovack rolled onto his haunches, cradling his bleeding face. Through his blood, pain and fingers he could see the black-clad woman holstering her gun. "And if you ever try to attack me again, I will kill you. I will give you no second warnings." She said matter-of-factly. Five minutes ago he wouldn't have believed her physically able to do so, but now Kovack believed she could and indeed likely would kill him if he didn't cooperate. He had clearly underestimated her and he resolved not to make that mistake again, should another opportunity to escape present itself.

"Geez, woman, you broke my nose…. Can I get a medic in…."

"I thought you were some sort of elite soldier?" her tone was contemptuous. "If you are still bleeding in the morning, perhaps I will get our healer to look at you." Kovack began searching his pockets for something to staunch the flow of blood. "If I let you live that long." She added with a shrug.

Kovack found a small field dressing in his fatigues and, ripping it open, applied it to his nose. "You're not serious about that?" he said, knowing, even as he looked at her, that she might well be. At that moment, Kovack heard other steps approaching. Aeryn didn't even look round as the newcomer entered.

"Hello, John," Aeryn said in a voice notably softer than that she had used with Kovack so far. It was a moment before Kovack realised that she meant the man standing behind her rather than himself. Although the newcomer was apparently also called John, a familiar, human name, the man seemed to be another po-faced black-leather-clad alien lunatic, Kovack thought.

"Hey honey, I thought I'd find you here. How are ya?"drawled the newcomer, not only in English, but with a strong Southern US accent.

"I am fine, John." Aeryn's gimlet stare never left Kovack as she spoke.

"Thought I'd better swing by, check our guest was safe."

"He is fine too. I have not done him permanent harm."

"Yeah, I see you've got the meet-and-greet over with. What've you gotten outta him?"

"Actually, our guest was about to tell us about why he kidnapped our children and where they have been taken."

"Pfff!," Kovack answered with a raised eyebrow, expressing his reluctance to cooperate with his captors. He'd had enough banter from the happy couple. Then the woman's words sunk through to him and he exclaimed "Your children?" The single statement seemed to set something off inside the male: The alien called John took a step forward, seeming to be spoiling for a fight, but the woman laid her hand on his arm and he stopped and fell back.

"Or, if he does not cooperate with us, he can tell one of Rygel's inquisitors, or we can give him to the Scarrans to torture or maybe we could ask Commandant Zobrek to put him in the Aurora chair for us? I really don't care which if he will not tell me what I want to know." Of course, little of what she said meant anything to Kovack, but the man's reaction to her words spoke volumes. Crichton looked at her, genuinely shocked.

"Honey, you can't mean that," Crichton said softly.

"It is who I am, John, what I was born to. And don't forget, he has our children." She said with a shrug. "Besides, you are not so different. Think of what you were willing to do to rescue me from the Scarrans."

John considered this for a moment before himself shrugging, it seemed, in agreement with whatever point she was making.

"If you two are done with the good cop, bad cop routine, I'd best tell you, you failed," Kovack snorted defiantly, although he quietly doubted the truth of his own words. The options the female had presented, and the male's reaction to them, had left him unsettled.

"More fool you: She scares the Hezmanna out of me…" Crichton supplied.

"We do not have time for this," Aeryn broke in and tapped the badge on her breast. "Nybar, meet us at the Hammond tier 5 airlock with a couple of the prisoners. I do not care which ones," Aeryn wanted answers as to what had happened to her children now and, from what she knew of humans, had come to a decision as to how she might get them.

"Now hang on there…" Kovack responded, protective of his people, but Aeryn simply drew her sidearm and waved it to indicate he should start walking towards the cell door. Crichton, deferring to Aeryn, drew his own sidearm and shadowed her move. With the two of them holding their guns on him, Kovack didn't rate his chances of escape as terribly high.

Five minutes later Kovack found himself at an airlock, still accompanied by the biker-couple from hell but now joined by two of their heavily armed, black leather clad sidekicks. The new guards, their faces hidden behind the black-tinted visors of their helmets, looked even less sympathetic than the captain and her husband. At that moment, yet more helmeted guards arrived, harshly escorting two humans from Kovack's team.

"Put one of them in the airlock," Aeryn ordered the latest guards without emotion or hesitation.

"Captain," Nybar confirmed, helping to shove a protesting human into the airlock before closing the door.

Aeryn fixed Kovack with the coldest look he had yet seen from her.

"Your people took my children. Help me get them back or you and your people will see no….. compassion…from us." She glanced at the Crichton, as though confirming something between them.

"Now wait just a minute!" Kovack began to protest, causing his two guards to tighten their grips on his elbows and shoulders.

"Pilot, give me manual control of airlock decompression," Aeryn ordered.

"Granted," came a disembodied reply. Aeryn nodded and marched across to a dial near the door and began turning it. Kovack could make out Technical Sargeant Peterson's concerned face at the small transparent view portal into the airlock, but could not hear his cries. It was more than Kovack could stand.

"Wait!" Kovack shouted. "Look there's two of our ships operating out here, OK: It must've been the other one that took your kids, if it was us at all!"

"If it was you, then yeah, right," Crichton interjected. Aeryn paused in turning the dial, but her hand still hovered over it.

"OK, OK! So we did hear they took two aliens back for further investigations. But that was last week. They'll be back through the wormhole by now, though. Maybe even on Earth."

"Earth!" John exclaimed almost together with Aeryn hissing "A wormhole?" The couple stared at each other for a few seconds, the looks they exchanged saying more than any words could.

"Shit!" John paced back and forth for a couple of seconds, stopping almost toe to toe with Kovack. He stared at Kovack with piercing blue eyes. "So, you do know Earth?"

"Know? You could say that. We're from Earth," Kovack confirmed, both shocked into revealing more than he had planned and a little unsettled that these aliens knew what planet they were from.

"Figures. We'd already guessed as much, just didn't really believe it. How'd you get out here?" Crichton snapped. He was not really surprised by the revelation, but was most definitely upset.

"Oh, that's a long story."

"So, you gonna entertain us?" Crichton asked, nodding towards the airlock. "Or we gonna have to review your motivation?"

"I'll talk."

"Clever man. Remember, we can always revisit that motivation thing if we think you're not being forthcoming."

"Nybar, take the other prisoners back to their cells, then meet us at the central chamber," Aeryn ordered. "Bring this one with us," she added to the guards holding Kovack.

A few minutes later, with Crichton bringing up the rear, they entered a new chamber. From it's appearance Kovack correctly guessed it to be some sort of apothecary or medical bay, with beds, seats and tables laden with a variety of strange, alien medical equipment. Aeryn indicated that Kovack should sit on an unpadded, wipe-clean chair.

"Would you have done it? Spaced my crewman?" Kovack asked, sitting.

Aeryn ignored the question whilst Crichton simply shrugged and snorted, before giving an equally non-committal answer. "Thanks for talking, my body count's already too high."

Before he could reply to that, Kovack found himself distracted as an almost human, female-looking alien with a mass of red curls and strange ridges on her too-large forehead blustered into the chamber. She made straight for the human captain.

"Is this the one whose nose you broke?" She asked Aeryn, whilst appraising the damage to the man's face.

"You tell me," Aeryn shrugged, settling on a nearby stool to oversee matters.

"Hold still and put your head back," the redhead snapped at Kovack. "Let's get that nose fixed up." Kovack allowed the woman to inspect his face and smiled slightly when she added. "Did you have to break his nose, Captain?"

"He's lucky that's all she broke," snorted Crichton, who was watching the scene carefully whilst slouching against what Kovack took to be a medical bed. The redheaded woman sighed resignedly and got to work on Kovack's nose.

Ten minutes, and a short walk through some of Moya's golden corridors later, Kovack found himself in what appeared to be a galley-cum-refectory, shifting uncomfortably under the unfriendly glare of about half a dozen humanoid aliens.

"So, this is the pathetic excuse for a soldier who led the attack on us?" sneered another red-haired woman, this one with a slightly scaled appearance to her skin and a much more belligerent attitude than that of the medic.

"Easy, Sputnik," Crichton responded, laying a gentle, restraining hand on her elbow.

"Such a weak species would have been wiser to have tried trading for what they wanted," she snarled back, before tossing her head and retiring to the other side of the room from where she glowered at the newcomer.

"Sikozu has a point," Aeryn commented, eyeing Kovack.

"Hmm, so, what is so wrong with trading?" John asked, before picking up and munching on a piece of purple fruit. Kovack was silent. "You gonna say anything, or we gonna have to go for another walk?" John snapped once he'd swallowed his mouthful.

"We don't have time, we don't have the resources and we couldn't risk bringing more unfriendly aliens down on us," Kovack responded.

"He's probably right John, after all, what does Erp have to offer anyone out here?" Aeryn put in, the implication of her words more sarcastic than conciliatory.

At that moment, a grey-skinned woman with white hair entered the room with a strange gait, half cat, half string-puppet.

"Hey Crichton, is he talking yet?" Chiana asked.

"Yeah Chi, pull up a pew," Crichton replied.

Kovack stared at Chiana, the grey woman's distinctive looks, and what she had called the man finally tripping a memory in his head.

"Y…You're that astronaut, John Crichton, the one who came to Earth with a bunch of aliens years ago, aren't you?"

John shrugged. "Maybe. What if I am?"

"Then you should be on our side…"

"You reckon?" Crichton snorted in reply.

"Geez, shouldn't you be much older by now?" Kovack continued, letting Crichton's question slide. "You don't seem to have aged a day."

"Yeah, neat huh? Our doc. is just dying to suck my blood and find out why." Crichton responded dryly, his lack of enthusiasm for such a medical investigation evident in his sarcastic delivery.

"I didn't recognize you: Your crew's changed a bit."

"There was a war out here," Crichton shrugged.

"Two, actually," interjected Aeryn.

"And, you know, it's been a long time, people come and go. Aeryn, Sikozu and Chi are the only ones left aboard who went to Earth."

"John, what is the point of all this? I want to know about Deke and Livvy," Aeryn demanded.

"Just getting there, babe," John reassured her, before turning back to Kovack. "Look, I don't want to be funny, but what the hezmanna has been going on back home?" John asked, his consciousness not even registering that, even when speaking to a fellow human, the spicier parts his vocabulary now owed more to the UT's than to Earth.

"How d'ya mean?" Kovack replied, feeling defensive.

"Well, you could start with when and how the space programme turned from scientific exploration to armed piracy?"

"You…. wouldn't understand." Kovack avoided answering.

"What, because I'm not with the programme, or because I've been out of town too long?"

"Yeah, either. Both, if you like," Kovack shot back with defiance. "You don't know what we've been through."

"Oh, I think I have a good idea of the possibilities," John retorted. Kovack remained silent, the set of his jaw showing he was unconvinced by Crichton's argument. "Look, Kovack, my first few cycles out here were hell: I didn't tell the half of it when I visited Earth." John tried to explain. "I know up close and personal how unfriendly the big, bad universe can be. Hell, half the critters out here were after me, my wife, my friends. And when they caught us, and they did catch us, there'd be torture, murder, the works. That's one of the reasons there are faces missing now from those that got to Earth."

"And your point is?"

John resisted the urge to strike him. "After we left Earth that time, the Scarrans, big nasty lizards, they captured Aeryn. She was pregnant with our eldest at the time, and the Scarrans had this whole Mengele thing going on. We almost didn't get her'n the little un' back alive. So don't give me all that 'You Wouldn't Understand bullshit'. I want to know where my kids are and what brings a nice species like you a plunderin' and a kidnappin' in my neighbourhood!"

Kovack reckoned that he didn't have much choice but to tell them some of the details of what had been going on back on Earth. Not if he wanted to get him and his crew out of this mess. Kovack took a deep breath. "It all started out OK. Maybe five years after you left. That's when we got the whole FTL drive thing figured."

"Based on the hetch drives Crichton left?" put in Sikozu.

"Yeah. Anyway, we got a couple of ships made and set to exploring."

"Exploring? What, the whole Star Trek we-come-in-peace thing? Coz you kinda missed, there, buddy."

"Hmm. Look, we were pretty naïve. You shoulda warned us…."

"Why? We're, what, 60 years or more from Earth at maximum hetch out here. You shouldn't have gotten out here for decades, centuries even. I closed the wormhole to make sure of that."

"We found another one." Kovack shrugged. John nodded. He had already guessed as much, and it fit with the general pattern of the Universe in frelling him over. John raised his hands to the ceiling in despair, allowing them to settle across his forehead after a couple of microts.

"Of course you did. How else could you have gotten out here so quickly?" John said, more to himself than to Kovack. "And that's when your troubles started?" Crichton added as a statement more than a question, but Kovack nodded in confirmation regardless.

"We had some good encounters, some not so good. But then something big and unfriendly came through the wormhole, and threatened Earth. That's when things changed."

"That's when you decided to start going around robbing and kidnapping people?"

"Look, Earth needs the tech to defend ourselves, and no one is going to give it us or trade for it. Surely you of all people can understand that, Commander!"

"Oh, I understand that bit right enough. What I'm not getting is why take my kids?"

"That wasn't my team," he quickly claimed, shaking his head. "Must've been Sorenson's ship. But I can imagine…."

"Imagine what?" Aeryn asked, grim-faced and not for a moment fooled by his 'it wasn't me' excuse.

"Y'know, he comes across a couple of human looking and sounding kids. Things have been none too friendly for us out here. He's gonna want to take them back home, find out what's their story."

"I hope, for your sake, that's all they plan on doing. You haven't seen my wife pissed yet, and believe me, you don't want to," John began, but was interrupted by Aeryn's hand falling softly on his forearm.

"John, can we talk privately for a microt?" Aeryn asked.

"Sure thing, honey," he replied, following her out of the central chamber.

An age seemed to pass, while the two Peacekeepers remaining in the chamber, along with Chiana and Sikozu, alternately stared menacingly at Kovack or ignored him. He made one or two attempts to start a conversation, but was rebuffed with silence.

"Look, what's your problem?" he asked Chiana after his third approach was blanked.

"What's MY problem?" Chiana almost screamed. "Y…you abduct my best friends' narls, you attack my home, and you ask what MY problem is!" She stood and stalked off to the other side of the room to stand next to Sikozu. "Can you believe this guy?" Chiana asked of the Kalish, who snorted to indicate that indeed she could not, then the Nebari turned back to look at Kovack, composed herself, and seemed about to continue her rant when John and Aeryn re-entered the chamber.

"Well, Captain Kovack, I've a little proposal. Earth needs friends out here. And some free advice," John opened.

"So what's your proposal?" Kovack asked, putting on his best poker face. He had no doubt that whatever Crichton was about to suggest came from Sun: She seemed to be both the one in charge and the one with the most level head and it had been her who had instigated the couples' private conversation outside the chamber.

"Seems we've got a common cause. I want to keep Earth safe, just like you say you do. That's why I shut the wormhole."

"And?"

"And so I recommend you stop going down the path you've chosen, as Earth doesn't need any of the real powers out here as enemies..."

"And in return you'll help Earth get the technology we need? To defend ourselves?" Kovack asked suspiciously. He couldn't bring himself to trust Crichton or the aliens that he consorted with. However, Kovack didn't have time to dwell on his suspicions, as Crichton was talking again.

"You keep forgetting, my wife and me, we want our kids back. Safe and sound. But I think I can see the beginnings of something here that'll help you, and'll help me and mine."

"Go on," Kovack prompted non-committally.

"First up, you help us get to Earth, help us get our kids back, that might lead to you and your people going home rather than us handing you over to the authorities out here. Second, Earth gives up the whole Space piracy thing. Then, and only then, we might start introducing you to the right sort of aliens. Kappish?"

"You know that making that sort of bargain is not within my purview, Crichton," Kovack stated.

"P'raps not. But you can help the powers-that-be come to the right decisions. So this is how I suggest we play it: Most of your people get to stay on Moya as security, but we take your ship down the rabbit hole back to Earth to get my kids. And talk to the suits in charge. Not necessarily in that order."

Kovack sighed. It seemed he was going to have to agree to take the former astronaut back to Earth. After all, he told himself, at least Crichton was a human, with Earth's interests at heart. And, by local standards the crew of Moya did seem to be the good guys. It might even work out to be for the best, for Earth, if they could develop some useful allegiances this side of the wormhole.

"If I help you get to Earth, I will not do anything to betray our country… my country," Kovack stated flatly.

"I wouldn't expect anything else," Crichton shrugged. Kovack relaxed a little at that. But then he caught Captain Aeryn Sun's stony expression, and suddenly he didn't feel half so relaxed after all.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"


	7. Chapter 6

Deke awoke with a splitting headache. The last time he had felt anything this bad was nearly a cycle ago. He had been on a supply run with Chiana, and they had ended up spending an evening in a bar planetside. She had got distracted from looking out for him long enough for Deke to experiment with a mix of raslak, fellip nectar and a sickly sweet, green concoction that was apparently a potent local specialty. The enormous, lupine barkeep had evidently not planned on allowing him to get that drunk, but evidently, alcohol affected teenaged human-sebacean hybrids somewhat more than it did giant wolf-creatures. On that occasion, Chiana had been sufficiently embarrassed by her own lapse in acting the responsible adult to have helped Deke hide the consequent two-day hangover from his parents. Neither of them needed a long conversation to share the knowledge of how unsympathetic Aeryn would have been had she heard their tale. They would probably have both been scrubbing trill bat droppings from the bottom of the central chamber for a monen.

Groaning, and rubbing his forehead, Deke rolled over, to find himself lying on a narrow bunk in an angular, glass walled chamber, which was about the size of a cell on Moya. The chamber was well, lit, much to Deke's discomfort but other than his bunk and a single chair, the room seemed empty. The windows were darkened, and Deke could not make out anything beyond them. He swung his legs off the bunk, to find the floor was hard and cold, although his boots were arranged neatly nearby.

"Good morning," A disembodied male voice filled the room. "A washroom is to your right. Freshen up, and someone will be with you shortly with something to eat." Fighting back the slight urge to vomit, Deke ran his hand through his close cropped hair and shuffled off to find the washroom that had been indicated.

When he returned, Deke found there were three Sebaceans and a portable table, covered with what looked and smelt like food, in the room waiting for him. Despite his apparent hangover, he was warily observing and weighing everything he could about his captors. Two of the visitors were large, burly men, clearly guards even without the clear signals sent out by their uniforms and sidearms. The uniforms and equipment were not those of Peacekeepers, though, Deke noted. What to do with that information, though, he was not sure. The third figure was dressed in a long white coat. She was a middle aged woman of average build, average height and otherwise unremarkable features.

"You must be hungry," the woman said to him, her attitude clearly marking her out as the person in charge here, despite her anonymous appearance. "Sit and have something to eat while we talk." Deke weighed his options. He was hungry, for sure, and whoever had captured him could easily do him harm without going to the trouble of tampering with his food. He remembered one of the many briefings his mother had given him: Under such circumstances, one should eat, as one never knew when the opportunity to do so again might occur. And perhaps try to steal a fork or two. He smiled to himself at the memory of the oft-told story of his parents' first meal together. He pulled up the chair and surveyed the food and drink before him. There was nothing that he recognized by look or smell. He decided an experimental picking over of the food on offer might be in order. As he did so, the woman continued speaking.

"My name is Dr Katherine Flyte. Feel free to call me Kate," So, his captor seemed keen to be friendly. Deke grunted non-comitally as he tried a brown, bitter-tasting hot drink. He nearly spat it out in disgust, it was so unpalatable, but he resisted the urge. He guessed that, unlikely as it might seem, it was a normal drink for these people. If they wanted to poison him, there were more subtle ways of doing it. He simply set the drink down and took a mouthful of what looked, and indeed tasted, like some sort of fruit juice. He was heartily relieved to find that it took away the taste of the previous concoction.

"Now the team that brought you and the girl in said that your name is Deke…." The woman seemed to consult some notes. "And that she is called Livvy."

Deke grunted again and tried something from a bowl, which was warm, light brown sludge-like and tasted almost as bland as a food cube. He could live with eating that. It was almost like a meal back home on Moya: Bland and wholesome, so unlike the food he had experienced during the last six monens on Hyneria.

"And they also report that you sometimes spoke to each other in English," Deke started at that last word, remembering that that was what his father sometimes called the human language. He also realized that English was what the woman was speaking. Deke struggled to hide the turbulent thoughts and unanswered questions, which now filled his throbbing head. "So how about you say something in English?"

Deke took two deep breaths, to give himself time to think. "OK, Dr Katherine Flyte, How and where is my sister, who are you, and why have you taken us prisoner?"

Flyte smiled, but it wasn't really a friendly smile. "Excellent. Except I was hoping you would be answering my questions, like who are you, how did you learn to speak English and what were you doing out there in deep space?"

"Answer mine first," Deke insisted. He tilted his head and gave her one of his mother's questioning looks, before returning his attention to the sludge-food.

"Your sister is well, we're simply holding her in another room: We did not know she was your sister. And, by the way, you're not our prisoner," the woman answered. She seemed somewhat irritated. Good, thought Deke. He was thoroughly pissed off, so it was only fair to share the joy.

"Fine, I'll finish eating and then Livvy and I'll be going, then." Deke nonchalantly took another mouthful of the warm brown sludge while his mind whirled trying to work out who these people might be and what they might want. The speaking English was clearly some sort of mind-frell, to get his guard down. It was most worrying that they knew, and indeed were able, to use his dad's language, and that they knew his and Livvy's first names.

The woman frowned and tried again. "Deke, I need you to start answering my questions, starting with how is it you speak English."

Deke fixed her with his best imitation of one of his mother's blank stares, and was gratified when the woman seemed to shuffle back a half step. "No can do. My parents taught me never to talk to strangers." and with that he took a bite from a round, green, fist-sized fruit, finding it to have a waxy skin and a white, succulent flesh. It was quite pleasant, if a little bland.

Flyte glowered at him in frustration. After several microts, she tried another tack.

"Deke. That's an unusual name…"

Deke shrugged. "If you say so."

Flyte exhaled sharply in exasperation. "How long do you intend to keep up this, this, obstinacy?"

"The more you talk, the more it's growing on me," he mumbled, before getting up and shuffling back over to the bunk space in the wall. Deke wanted to close his eyes and have a long think. This was turning out quite differently to the sort of mind-frells that his parents had warned him about. He was worried that he had been separated from Livvy, but they hadn't directly threatened him or implied they had or would harm her. Indeed, apart from his concern for his sister, he was almost enjoying himself, having the chance to play up the surly inner teenager that his mother just wouldn't tolerate. Deke, who had inherited a great deal of both his mother's and father's obstinacy, was determined that he wouldn't give them anything.

A largely fruitless half hour later, Dr Katherine Flyte left the chamber in a state of some frustration. If she'd had wanted to deal with sulky teenage boys she'd have had kids of her own, or gone into a different line of work. Still, she comforted herself; there was always the girl, Livvy. She was clearly a few years younger than the boy, and thus almost certainly easier to manipulate. She rubbed at her temples with her fingertips: she'd stop off in her office for a quick Tylenol before seeing the girl, though.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

John squeezed around Officer Nellon to get further forward on the cramped bridge of the human spacecraft. There was scarcely a cubic dench wasted on the compact ship, in stark contrast to Moya's spacious halls. He shuddered to think what it was like when the full crew was crammed in there, maybe for monens at a time. The bridge itself was only designed for five seated crew, with scarcely any spare space to move around in. In the 23 years since he had last been on a Space Shuttle, John had almost forgotten what it was like to be on a human space ship. Other than his module, of course, and that didn't really count in John's view of the Universe.

Despite the ship being unbelievably cramped by Uncharted Territories standards, John had learned during the last couple of days that many of the ships systems, including propulsion and weaponry, had been reversed-engineered from a Peacekeeper Vigilante which, a few years previously, had somehow found it's way through the new wormhole to Earth. Apparently, that had been when all the talk of Earth being under threat had really got started. As far as he could tell from conversations with the X-469's crew, although none of them would actually say so when directly questioned, there had not been any actual attack on the Earth itself. Although he was no stranger to paranoia, this left something of a mystery in John's mind as to why the humans were quite so convinced that Earth was being threatened.

Nellon had been minding the pilot, one of the semi-civilians that Aeryn had captured when her team had stormed the human spaceship. Aeryn, sub-officer Hillark and two of Moya's more junior ex-Peacekeeper soldiers were in the ship's galley, guarding the other three humans they had brought with them. Aeryn and John had eventually settled on taking four humans on their preliminary expedition to Earth. Three of them were the X-469's flight crew, all primarily astronauts, to John's professional eye, and the fourth was Captain Kovack's second in command, another soldier called Lieutenant Cameron. They had elected to leave Kovack on Moya for this first trip, keeping probably their most valuable hostage in reserve.

"How long till Earth orbit?" John asked the human pilot. He struggled to keep his tone of voice neutral. These Earthlings might have been his people by birth, and he might have been looking to gain their trust and cooperation, but, after what they were complicit in doing to his family, he didn't have to like them.

"Ninety minutes, or thereabouts, Commander." replied the pilot, Commander Paterson. Paterson's voice was surly and resentful. "If I should still call you that," he added softly and with a slight sneer.

John glowered at the back of Paterson"s head, whilst he heard Nellon shift his weight uncomfortably behind them. John was well aware that Paterson and the others regarded him as some sort of traitor for aligning himself with aliens and for capturing the X-469 and her crew. But John regarded Paterson and his comrades as having betrayed everything John thought his country had stood for with their own acts of piracy. So maybe that made them even. But then again, John had decided, it didn't really matter. After 20-odd years away from Earth, John's loyalties now were to his family, his crew, and his friends. His former country on Earth, indeed, his former countrymen, didn't even make it to his primary list of loyalties these days.

"I don't care what you think of me, Paterson. Just fly the damn ship," was all John could bring himself to reply.

"Right," Paterson sneered back, flicking at a few instruments before adding sotto voce. "That alien tart must be quite something in the sack for you to betray your own people," John felt his muscles go rigid with anger and the urge to strike Paterson. He probably would have done so, too, if he hadn't seen Nellon's vice-like grip tightening on the back of the seat. He turned to look straight into Nellon's cold, grey eyes, reading murder there. John remembered how some of the Peacekeepers now saw Aeryn as some sort of religious figurehead after the business with the Kkore. Combined with their militaristic tendencies, it could be a dangerous mix. He gave Nellon gave a single shake of his head from side to side and then flicked his head back to indicate that the Peacekeeper should leave.

"Go cool off," John whispered to Nellon, who responded with a single nod before pushing back past the consoles and chairs and off of the bridge.

"What was that all about?" snorted Paterson derisively.

"You should be careful what you say about my wife. I'm tempted just to slap you around a bit, but some of the others, well… A fair few of them would cheerfully and painfully kill you for talking about her like that." There seemed little point or advantage in explaining to Paterson that many of the Peacekeepers saw Aeryn as some sort of religious figurehead, one who had saved them both physically and spiritually in the war against the Grennij and Kkore. Paterson snorted again in evident disbelief. "Tell you, next time you put your foot in it, I won't save your sorry ass. Then you can find out for yourself," John snapped back.

At that moment Nellon returned to the bridge, having recovered his composure. At almost exactly the same microt, John's comm bleeped.

"John, it's Aeryn. Could you come back for a few microts?" she asked.

"Sure thing, hon," he replied, before adding to Nellon, "You going to be OK with him?" Nellon nodded.

"I love you too," was all John said to Paterson before he left. "Hail me if there is anything to report, otherwise I'll be back in 30 macrots. And keep an eye on Mahatma," he said to Nellon as he left, causing the Sebacean a moment of deep confusion. Once in the corridor outside, John leant against the bulkhead and started to count to ten, slowly, to calm himself and to make sure that nothing accidently happened to Paterson as soon as John was off the flight deck.

After 30 microts, all still seemed quiet and peaceful so, after a final, visual check that Paterson was still alive, John made his way back to the galley to talk to Aeryn.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Kim Lee, the CEO of Fairfax Industries, flicked through the latest reports on the assets returned by recent deep space expeditions. Fairfax had first call on commercializing almost everything the missions discovered, and that had ensured that Lee, and another of other people, had become immensely powerful and wealthy as a result. The most interesting, yet potentially troublesome, prizes on his list were the two humanoids returned just the previous week by the latest ship to return from the other side of the new wormhole. Preliminary reports had been confused as to whether they were human or not. The ambiguity was just what Lee secretly hoped for. He could well imagine that creatures that were close to humans, but not quite human, might be worth a great deal to anyone with the skills, contacts, and most of all, the drive and determination, to maximally exploit the biotech opportunities they contained.

Kim Lee prided himself on being that man. He would exploit the opportunities presented by these two almost-humans to the maximum. In a way, he was glad that no one like him had been in the right place nearly 20 years ago, when the Moya expedition had visited Earth. Things might have turned out very differently if there had. And, if they had turned out differently, Lee knew he would not be in such a good position to profit now.

He flicked through the reports from the lab one more time. Only the most minimally invasive investigations had taken place so far: The team under Dr Flyte were taking their time. Lee approved: That was fine for now, so long as they were making valuable discoveries, all was well. He could wait a few more weeks, maybe even a couple of months, before insisting that they move to a thorough investigation of how they might exploit the aliens' biotechnology.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

The familiar blue-green orb filled almost the whole of the forward view portals of the X-469's bridge as the ship orbited, hundreds of miles above the planet surface. Aeryn, John and Lieutenant Cameron had joined Nellon and Paterson on the bridge. There was no one in the group, save Nellon, who did not have mixed feelings at seeing Earth again, in their present company. Of all, it was perhaps Aeryn who was having the most trouble reconciling her feelings. Earth, the favoured planet, the planet she had once agreed to go to with John to escape the UTs and share it's wonders, but which had always bitten back, whether for real or in a simulation. And now, it was the planet which had stolen her children.

Cameron was handcuffed and Nellon was watching him, like a Brindz hound waiting for his lunch, to make sure that the human did not cause any trouble. The two of them were floating at the back of the bridge whilst Aeryn and John flanked Paterson at the pilot's position, no less vigilant than Nellon. They had been in orbit for several arns now and had not contacted the planet. They had been observing, trying to learn anything about Deke and Livvy's fate, but their vigil had been in vain.

"OK, let's do it," John stated. Aeryn nodded assent. "Open a channel to your mission control," he ordered Paterson. Paterson grunted sullenly and flicked a couple of switches.

"X-469 to Florida Space Command. Commander Paterson here. Come in, Florida," Paterson began

"Hey, Paterson. Good trip?" came a disembodied voice, almost without delay.

"Erm, well… We have a situation up here," responded Paterson. "Best if I let someone else explain."

"Hey, Earth. This is Commander John Crichton, formerly of IASA." There was a long silence. And then another long silence.

After a pause of about a minute, in which Florida made no reply, a different voice to that which had first answered came over the radio. "What can we do for you, Commander," they asked. This voice was smoother, more authoritative than the first, and completely confident. "Welcome back to Earth. What've you been up to the last 20-odd years, then?"

"Who'm I speaking to?" John asked, his manner sharp, ignoring the friendly overtures.

"Walt Kroenig, duty supervisor down here. What's going on up there, Crichton? How'd you get to be on one of our ships?" Kroenig seemed to be walking a fine line between friendly and critical in his tone.

"Well, Walt, It seems your shiny new spaceships haven't exactly been coming-in-peace to my home turf. Too much Kirk, not enough Picard."

There was a pause which seemed to last an age but was probably only a few microts.

"What do you mean by that?" Kroenig was now much more defensive in his tone, his hackles evidently raised by John's accusative approach.

"Let's cut to the chase, Kroenig. Seems your people took two people, my kids, as it happens. Then a bunch of your red-shirts got themselves detained while trying, at gunpoint, to commandeer my ship. So I've come to get my kids back and ask where you want your people delivered to."

There was another pregnant pause before Walt came back on line. "You need to come down, Commander so we can discuss….."

"Shyeah right," John interrupted. "You guys have sooo filled me with confidence about that being a good idea. Let's just talk from a healthy distance for now, shall we?"

There was another pregnant pause. "You say two kids?"

"Yep."

"Err, I understand two hostile alien combatants were taken into custody by our last crew to return to Earth."

"Hostile combatants?" John snorted and fumed. His face reddened and his voice grew louder and more high pitched and his Southern accent became notably more pronounced. "Bullshit! They're kids, Kroenig!"

"Hostile alien combatants is all I know."

"Well get them here, get to know more!"

"That's not in my purview: They were handed over to the appropriate authorities when they were landed. Nothing to do with us."

"So who has them?"

"Commander Crichton, you really can't expect me to divulge that sort of information. You may be a risk to planetary security. Especially as you seem to be aligned with potentially hostile alien forces…"

"Then line me up with people who can walk the talk, or I'll start asking around myself," John snarled, but there seemed to be some sort of commotion going on in Florida Space Command and Kroenig did not immediately reply. After about 20 microts, the line went quiet, as though muted, and then, another 50 or so microts later he came back on line.

"We're, uhh, gonna have to sign off now, X-469. Someone will be in contact soon."

And with that, Florida cut the link. John and Aeryn exchanged meaningful, dark glances, before signaling to Nellon that they needed to discuss this in private, away from human ears.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

It was rare to see so many of their group, the Immortals, as Holt like to think of them, in the same room. But then these were exceptional times. Even though most of those present were based in Washington, busy schedules, massive egos and even larger rivalries usually conspired these days to limit meetings between the Immortals to no more than two or three of them at any given time.

"What is so damned important that you called this meeting, Holt?" asked Senator Mitchell. "Some of us have a proper job!"

Mitchell wasn't strictly speaking one of the original Immortals: He hadn't taken the translator microbes when the Moyans had visited, being too young and of no consequence back then. He hadn't even met any of the aliens, except as part of a crowd during a busy reception in Washington, when he was a just young "political advisor." But these days, he was an important player for Fairfax, being one of their key retained friends in the Senate, as well as, through supposedly blind trusts, being a major shareholder in the company.

"Err, you did hear that X-469 returned to Earth orbit earlier today, didn't you?" Asked General Adam MacCarthy with more than a hint of sarcasm. MacCarthy and Mitchell were certainly not natural allies: Only their shared agendas and stakes in the success of Fairfax and the Deep Space project overcame their mutual dislike. That, and being part of a mostly select and powerful group whose lives had been extended by the translator microbes from Moya.

"Of course…" Mitchell tried to dismiss him.

"And you did hear about who was aboard. And not aboard?" MacCarthy persisted. Mitchell glared at him, the dislike between the two men evident to all in the room, not that it was exactly a secret.

"Gentlemen…" Holt tried to calm things. He didn't care that they didn't like each other. This was business, and they had things to discuss.

"What is important is that this whole state of affairs threatens to bring bad publicity for Fairfax," contributed Beth Laszlo, one of the two directors from Fairfax present at the meeting.

"And our whole group," Holt pointed out. This was much bigger than just Fairfax. Frankly, Holt couldn't care less what happened to Fairfax, so long as the wider strategy, and Holt and his allies, were not publicized or interfered with.

"We need to act now to neutralize the situation," Laszlo continued, unabated.

"There are always options to turn things to our advantage," Holt put in.

"What do you propose, TR, Beth?" asked Senator Mitchell.

"We have had our people perform situational analyses and prepare contingency plans," put in Kim Lee, the CEO of Fairfax, feeling it was time for him to assert his place in the pecking order.

"Which means?" asked General MacCarthy, intolerant of all this verbiage.

"That we have considered our options and where they might lead," Laszlo put in, determined not to be cut out by Lee.

"And?" MacCarthy persisted.

"Well, for instance, if the X-469 were destroyed by hostile aliens, in orbit, that would help both in marginalising those on Earth who have questioned our strategies and the alien threat and would…. Severely marginalise those who are raising their voices from orbit." Laszlo expounded. "Hypothetically, of course."

There was silence for a little while whilst everyone present considered this.

"Could that be arranged?" asked Holt, just when it seemed no one was going to comment on that.

"We thought it was important to include systems to protect our assets from falling into the hands of hostiles," explained Laszlo.

"So, yes?" Holt expounded. Laszlo half shrugged, half nodded, but would not say the word.

"This seems to be just that sort of situation," Kim Lee put in, deciding once again that it was time for him to take charge.

"I have to agree. How many people need to be involved?" Holt asked.

"Only two of my most trusted security people will be needed," Lee supplied.

"What about our people up on the X-469?"asked MacCarthy. He had been mostly silent till now, but, from his body language alone, he seemed far from comfortable about the direction this was taking.

Laszlo shrugged. "Sacrifices need to be made."

"None of us can afford the consequences of Crichton or his allies going public on all this," Lee pointed out. "The PR would be catastrophic. To all of us."

"I think it"s important that we all see this as an opportunity," put in Holt, trying to calm the situation.

MacCarthy considered all this for a moment, scowling deeply. Then he nodded sharply, once, giving his assent. "When might this alien attack happen?" He asked.

"The longer it is delayed, the more chance there is that we lose control of the situation, that the wrong messages get heard," Lee smoothly replied.

"There has already been one, unfortunate communication between Crichton and Space Command. Fortunately, it doesn't seem to have reached the public domain," Holt said in support.

"Very well, then it should happen immediately. Is everyone agreed?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

"Agreed."

Holt took a stiff drink, raised the handset from his phone and offered it to Lee. "The sooner you arrange to speak to your people the better," Holt explained. He didn't need to add that Lee shouldn't mention any of the actual details over the phone.


	8. Chapter 7

Livvy Sun-Crichton was terrified, but determined not to show it. The Sebaceans who had kidnapped her and Deke from Dominar Rygel's yacht seemed highly organized, well-resourced and numerous. Most worrying of all, though, was that they didn't seem to be either regular Peacekeepers or from the Breakaway colonies. She could tell that she had been taken planet-side but otherwise everything, from the food, through the clothes to the décor, was thoroughly unfamiliar to her.

She had been physically sick when she had first woken up in her holding cell. Although she hadn't known it, she had suffered a worse reaction than had Deke to the sedative they had both been given for the last part of their journey through the wormhole and to Earth. Consequently, they had not interrogated her at first and had given her time to recover. But, after a few days of relative peace, she found herself in a far more worrying situation than any simple interrogation.

They hadn't harmed her, yet, but her father had instilled in her a healthy wariness of medical laboratories, such as the one she now found herself to be in, undergoing a battery of unfamiliar tests and exams. The burly orderlies who had strapped her down had retired into the background whilst the medtechs seemed to be studiously avoiding any acknowledgment that she was actually a live, conscious person. After a few hundred microts a different woman, this one older than the rest and dressed in a white coat, came up to her, looked her in the eyes and smiled. Livvy struggled not to show the fear that such an incongruous act stirred in her. She was her mother's daughter: She was determined that she would not show weakness to any of these people.

"Livvy, isn't it?" the woman asked. "That's what the boy called you? I'm Dr. Katherine Flyte."

Livvy's parents had drilled her not to give away too much if kidnapped, as there were many people who would do her harm either because of her value as a rare hybrid or for revenge on her parents. But they had also told her to do anything to survive. How would these people react if she didn't cooperate at all? She would have to play this very carefully. Livvy nodded slowly.

"Good, and you speak English? And some other language?" Livvy nodded again. Hopefully she had not given anything too damning away. "Where did you learn English?" Her interrogator shot back, causing Livvy's heart to miss a beat.

Dren! Livvy thought: The question that would give everything away. Her train of thought was derailed by the woman starting to unfasten the restraints around her wrists. That didn't seem right: she had been convinced things were about to turn nastier, not nicer. Perhaps they still would? She noticed one of the orderlies was simultaneously releasing her ankles. It seemed that they had completed whatever medical examination they had in mind for her, without her even noticing. Or perhaps it was all part of some sort of mind-frell? Livvy shivered, despite the warmth of the room.

"Why do you want to know?" Livvy responded with caution. The woman smiled.

"Oh, just curious. Look, are you hungry, do you want something to eat?" Livvy considered this for a few moments. She was a prisoner in a med lab. Getting something to eat could hardly be more dangerous than that, could it? She nodded again, carefully swung her legs around, sitting up, and rubbed at her wrists where the restraints had been.

"Come on then," the woman indicated. Livvy bit her lip and looked around as she climbed off the med bed to follow the woman towards the door. She noticed two guards follow closely behind. "I'm Dr Flyte, by the way," the woman added, turning and offering a hand. Nervously, Livvy took it.

A hundred microts later they were standing in a mess hall, about the size of Moya's central chamber, with maybe fifteen to twenty other people

"I don't recognize any of this food. You choose something," Livvy said, filled with uncertainty.

"Pizza?"

"Peeza? You have peeza?"

"Earth's finest."

Livvy considered this for a moment. "Is this Earp? Are you Oomans?"

The woman laughed. "Of course, who did you think we were?"

"Sebaceans."

"Spatians? Why, because we met you in space?"

"No, Se-bac-eans. Like mum…" Oh dren! Livvy thought, as soon as the words had left her mouth.

"You're a Sebacean?" Flyte considered this for a moment. She was well versed on the details of all the aliens that humans had previously encountered – it was her job to be so briefed. "We've met your kind before, about twenty years ago, a Sebacean called Erin Tzun visited Earth. I've seen recordings of her speaking English. She sounded a bit like you." Flyte finished, looking at Livvy a little too enquiringly for Livvy's taste.

"I'll have peeza," Livvy insisted, trying to change the subject a little too quickly. She stared hard at the food on offer, even as she was aware that Dr Flyte was still directing a hard and appraising look at her. Livvy was relieved when Dr Flyte seemed to return to the matter of food.

"And to drink?"

"I don't know your drinks, either."

"I'll get you a soda, then," said Flyte, before concluding their business at the counter and leading Livvy off to a table.

"How old are you, Livvy?"

"Thirteen cycles," Livvy lied, adding a year in order to try to sound older to her captor.

"What, that'd be thirteen years, thereabouts?" Livvy nodded in reply, not realizing how many little bits of information she was giving to Flyte merely by acknowledging that she knew what a year was and that it was about the same time as a cycle.

"And the boy, Deke, isn't he called? How old is he?"

"My brother's seventeen cycles. Look, why did you kidnap us?" Livvy retorted, determined to take back the offensive in their conversation.

"Whoa, slow down there, miss. We find two kids, speaking English, on an alien spaceship. We thought we were rescuing you," Flyte replied, raising her hands defensively.

"Didn't seem like a rescue. You attacked our uncle's ship." Livvy sulked back.

"Your uncle? Hmm. A misunderstanding. No lasting harm was done. Look, you need to tell us more about you, so we can put things right."

"You kidnapped us, why should I trust you?" Livvy asked not unreasonably, filling her mouth with pizza in defiance, as though to show that she wasn't going to say anything. These aliens were a real pushover, relative to the mind frells and tortures her parents had tried to warn her about. They would get nothing out of her, Livvy decided.

"Well, because we have pizza," Flyte smiled back. Leaning in closer, she added in a conspiratorial tone, "And ice cream."

After lunch, Dr Flyte returned to her office for half an hour before the afternoon meeting with her team: The girl had unknowingly given her so much information that she needed to get it all down, capture it while it was all fresh in her memory. She beavered away at her computer until her team started to drift in. Flyte went round the table, getting each of their reports, adding to the sum of knowledge they were gathering. There was just one little thing they needed to clear up at this stage. Once they had that answer, they could really start to put the pieces of the picture together and decide what path to pursue next.

"Right team, I want a familial work-up of the blood taken from both the subjects. I want you to run their samples against the samples taken from the Moyan visit, specifically John Crichton and Aeryn Sun. And I want a comparison of their physiology and anatomy with what we know of Sebaceans. Preliminary reports on my desk by 9 am tomorrow. Chop-chop, people!" Flyte concluded. Her team was going to have a busy afternoon and evening.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Aeryn had engaged stealth mode even before she had flown the Prowler out of the X-469's tiny docking bay. They couldn't afford for the Prowler to appear as even the slightest blip on Earth's defence systems, and they could well surmise that the Earth spacecraft would be being watched with every tool at the humans' disposal. Within microts, they were hundreds of motras away from the larger Earth ship and sweeping down towards the planet surface on a trajectory that would bring them to ground level far out over the South Atlantic ocean.

Once they were nearly at sea level, within sight of the white foam cresting the waves, Aeryn had turned the Prowler back towards Florida. Skimming the crests of the Atlantic swell, she plotted a rough arc towards land. As they grew closer to Florida, she eased back to fly at just below the speed of sound to prevent a sonic boom and, should they be spotted, to increase the chance they would be mistaken for just another Earth aircraft, thus further reducing their chances of detection.

"Do you think your dad or sisters will still be living in the same place, after all this time?" Aeryn asked John calmly. It was as though she were discussing shopping while driving in an SUV rather than piloting a stealth fighter in a prolonged, expert manoeuvre, always within a split second of hitting the surface.

"We gotta hope, honey." he replied from his position just behind her in the Prowler's cramped cockpit. "Besides, I can't see any sure or safe way to talk to them, or anyone else, from up in orbit. And I reckon we'll need to speak to someone other than the guilty parties to get this sorted out."

"I am not convinced that we are likely to be more successful down here, seeking aid from your family. Won't your family be watched?

"Not sure: Could be the spooks in charge wouldn't bother with much live surveillance, as they think we're up there and they know my folks probably don't know we're here. Could also be they'd be too scared to show their hand when there are so many prying eyes watching."

"Fine, just so long as we take care," She replied with considerably less trepidation than she felt. If they couldn't trust the powers in charge of John's world, then they surely couldn't risk falling into their hands, either. But it was John's planet, so, rightly or wrongly, for better or worse, she deferred to him. She was still wondering if he was being a little casual with their safety and if she was wise letting him be as she banked the Prowler over the everglades, looking for a suitable place to set down.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Holt, Flyte and Laszlo gathered in Laszlo's plush and spacious office, Flyte was carrying a small sheaf of papers.

"Go ahead, Dr. Flyte, you said there had been interesting developments?" Laszlo began, once they were all seated.

"Well, it's regarding the two specimens brought back by the X-473 last week," Flyte supplied, looking through her notes for the right page to support her statement.

"Of course, go on," Holt encouraged her.

"Well, you remember the Moyan visit? And the striking similarity between humans and the alien soldier, the Sebacean, who was part of Moya's crew?"

"Yes, yes…" Holt replied. Of course he remembered: He had been a central player in the whole affair.

"You understand we don"t know that much about Sebacean genetics, or biology?" Flyte continued to beat around the bush.

"Hmm?" Holt responded, half remembering how a great deal of their plans to learn about the aliens' biology had been foiled by intransigence, politics and events.

"Get to the point, please Flyte," Laszlo scolded.

"Well, the thing is, my team are pretty convinced that the specimens returned last week are Human-Sebacean hybrids."

Holt and Laszlo exchanged a meaningful look, laden with unspoken words. Holt coughed and Laszlo frowned, mutually breaking their locked gaze. They both already had some privileged information on that matter, without the benefit of Flyte's insight.

"And there's more:" Flyte continued. "We're also fairly sure we know who their parents are."

"And?" Holt managed to say with a steady voice, although he had already guessed what was coming next. So, from her expression, had Beth Laszlo.

"John Crichton and, unless Sebaceans are much more genetically homogenous than humans, the Sebacean who was on Moya when he visited Earth: Aeryn Sun."

Laszlo and Holt exchanged another meaningful look. Again, this was not exactly news to either of them, although neither of them could say so in front of someone not in the inner circle, like Flyte.

"That is….. very interesting information," Holt managed to say with a straight face. Laszlo looked down at her jotter and seemed to scribble something important. Or doodle.

"Isn't it just? The implications are extraordinary…" Flyte began, full of enthusiasm.

"Dr. Flyte," Holt interrupted. "Have you heard the news about the sad loss of the X-469?"

"Of course."

"Well, we believe that Commander Crichton and the alien Sun were both aboard the X-469 when it suffered it's unfortunate accident."

"Ohhh." Flyte was shocked, and felt a twinge of sorrow on behalf of her two teenage charges.

"Which means," Laszlo looked up, fixing Flyte with a chilling glare, "That there is now no possibility that anyone will challenge Fairfax' ownership of the alien specimens. We can do what we like, without fear of exposure."

"Oh!" Flyte exclaimed, visibly paling at the brutal delivery and implications of that remark.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

It was an hour after dusk by the time John and Aeryn finished hiding the Prowler in thick everglades. They were a mile from a main route and ten miles from the nearest town. The couple made their way to the road down a small dirt track and, once there, where they soon managed to hitch a ride with a lonely passing trucker.

Two rides and half of a long summer's night later, John led Aeryn through his old neighbourhood towards where his father had lived twenty years before. It was a long shot that the old man still lived, far less still lived there, but he was their first best choice of people to contact. It was 9 o'clock in the morning by the time they drew close to the house, and by then the heat of the day was really starting to build. John glanced at Aeryn with concern for her written on his features: She smiled wanly, trying to dampen his worries, while still making it clear that she was finding the heat difficult. Aeryn was coping so far, but John knew that she'd be pleased to get inside, out of the heat of the day and into somewhere with air conditioning.

Although neither of them could spot any sign of surveillance near Jack's old house, they could not be sure that the house would not be watched, so they approached as cautiously as they could without drawing attention, making the final approach by strolling nonchalantly towards a neighbour's house before disappearing into the ample shrubbery to make their final approach under cover, via the rear.

Having made it into Jack's back yard, they crouched in the bushes near the kitchen, peering inside, searching for any sign of who the current occupant might be. On the one hand, they really needed to know before showing themselves, but, on the other, John desperately wanted to get Aeryn inside and out of the heat of the day. He looked at her reddening cheeks and the sweat that was starting to bead her forehead and made a decision: His dad had always kept an emergency key hidden in the garden. If it was still there…..

"Stay put for a microt," John whispered to Aeryn.

"What…?" she began, then stopped as his leather clad backside departed through the undergrowth. 50 microts later he was back, grinning like an idiot and holding up a dirty, jagged piece of metal, about two denches long, as though it was something important.

"The key to the kingdom!" he hissed in excitement. She gave a single, sharp head shake and a frown to indicate he would have to explain better than that if he wanted her to understand.

"My dad always kept a spare key for the back door hidden outside, in case of emergencies. It's still there, which means…"

"That could mean anything, John. It doesn't mean he still lives here," she explained carefully, bursting his bubble.

"OK, OK, but it's the middle of the day, and doesn't look like anyone's home. Let's go in, find out if he's still there, and get you cooled off." She had to agree with his last point. She was really starting to feel the heat now.

They eased out of the bushes and up to the kitchen door, all the while checking in vain through the windows for signs of life within. With a grunt and a shove, John got the door open and Aeryn followed him inside.

The house seemed to have been redecorated and rebuilt a little which, after their last visit, was hardly surprising, all things considered. The layout was familiar, but too much was different to be able tell at a glance if Jack still lived here. Aeryn stood watch by the door, her fingers tickling the stock of her pulse pistol for comfort as it sat in its holster, her eyes scanning the room. John moved deeper into the ground floor, in search of clues regarding who might be the current occupant. As he moved towards the closed door to the family room, Aeryn heard what sounded like movement on the other side.

"John!" she hissed in warning, drawing her pistol to cover him. He turned to look at her, a questioning look in his eyes, just as the door swung open and an unfamiliar, stocky middle-aged man with the beginnings of a paunch barreled inside. His aggressive stance instantly told Aeryn that he had his suspicions that there were intruders in his house. The man swung the baseball bat he was holding at John's head, and it would have connected with a sickening crunch if not for the years of training Aeryn had given him. John ducked under the blow and butted his shoulder into the man's stomach, carrying him through to the family room. The pair landed with a thud on the floor, with the man letting out a pained groan and the bat clattering to the floor.

Aeryn swiftly followed them through the door, her pulse pistol level in front of her. John had easily overpowered the householder, who was no longer putting up much of a fight, but John hadn't yet spotted the terrified woman standing by the opposite door, holding what Aeryn recognized as a telephone in her hand.

"I…I've called the cops!" the woman squealed desperately. John joined Aeryn in looking towards the frightened woman.

"Frell!" hissed John. Under the circumstances, it seemed the most appropriate thing to say.


	9. Chapter 8

"Lunch?" Dr Flyte asked, putting her head round the door to the room where Livvy was playing computer games. Flyte smiled to herself: It was almost too easy, getting Livvy and Deke to perform assessments of their reactions, learning and spatial skills. But at least they were now making progress, gathering new data, and all the time that they were, the childrens' safety was just a little more assured. "Do you fancy trying something different today?"

"Such as?" Asked Livvy, still reserved and suspicious, but largely ignorant as to how suspicious she really ought to be.

"Oh, it's a lovely day. I thought we might sit out in the quadrangle." Flyte responded in as friendly and disarming manner as she could manage.

"Huh?" Livvy responded, having no idea what the doctor was talking about with their proposed seating arrangements.

"Eat outdoors, in the sunshine," Flyte supplied, correctly guessing what was required. She was getting quite tuned in to the way the childrens' minds worked. "And there's Chinese at the canteen today. Have you ever tried Chinese food?"

Livvy shook her head and bit her lip. Soon afterwards, she found herself outside, seated at a wooden picnic bench, the sun beating down on her and new food experiences helping to relax and let down her guard.

Flyte waved her fork over the ample selection of dishes between them on the table."Which is your favourite?" she asked, smiling.

"Hmm, not sure," Livvy replied. "What's this called?"

"You know, I'm not really sure," laughed Flyte. Livvy squinted back at her, trying to work out what was so funny. "Is the sun bothering you?" Flyte asked, seeing her shielding her eyes.

"Hmm, a little. Not used to it."

"I bet. Here, try these," Flyte pulled some sunglasses out of her bag and handed them across. Livvy looked at them for a microt then put them on. "Better?"

"Yes, thanks. Dad has something just like these," Livvy let slip. Excellent, thought Flyte. That was just the sort of opening she'd been hoping for.

"He must have picked them up when he visited here." When Livvy didn't deny that that might have been the case, Flyte pushed a little further. "So, what did your parents get up to after they left Earth? Apart from the obvious?" Flyte gave Livvy a knowing smile. In response, Livvy blanched like any teenager would at the suggestion that their parents might have had sex. In the process she entirely missed that Flyte had just got further confirmation from her as to whom her parents were. "You know they were here back in 2003, right? That'd be about 16 years… Cycles… ago?"

"They don't like to talk about before they were married," shrugged Livvy. "I mean, I know mum was captured and tortured by the Scarrans after they visited Earth," Livvy replied, still suspicious and trying so hard, and failing, to be guarded.

"Scarrans? Here, try some of this," Flyte responded, trying to draw her out yet play everything down her interrogation at the same time. Livvy explored the offered dish with a fork, trying to work out what each ingredient might be.

"Big, nasty lizards. Mum hates them, dad too. And then there was the war."

"War?"

"Between the Scarrans and Peacekeepers."

"I guess your mum was involved in that?"

"They both were." She beamed with pride. "Dad made them stop fighting."

"And everything was OK afterwards?"

"Not for long. Then the Kkore invaded. That was when mum took charge of first the Peacekeepers then all the allies and drove them off. No-one messes with my mum…" Livvy finished pointedly.

Flyte almost asked her how her parents had done such extraordinary things, but decided that might make Livvy realise how much she was saying and clam up. "You must be very proud," she said instead. Livvy nodded. Flyte was more than a little disturbed that the childrens' parents might be able to wield such power in their world, and resolved to include some suitable warnings to her superiors in her next report.

"After that, I think they just took it easy for a few cycles," Livvy decided to chance a mouthful of the offered dish. It tasted so different to anything she'd ever tried before.

"Well, having two small children can be very demanding. Try some of this," Flyte dolloped another new culinary experience onto Livvy's plate.

"Hmmph, thanks," Livvy mumbled with her mouth full.

"So, what do they do now?" Livvy swallowed the mouthful to answer.

"Well, mum contracts Moya out as a science ship, a transport, whatever."

"So, she's not a Peacekeeper anymore?"

"Well, you know, she says that's part of who she is. But she's not been a Peacekeeper, not really, not since Mum and dad first met. Not even when she was in charge of the fleet." As Livvy spoke on, Flyte couldn't believe her luck, the amount of information that Livvy was spilling. She chanced a quick glance into her handbag, to check the recording device was still running, pulling out a small can and setting it on the table between them.

"Did your dad ever mention Red Bull, Livvy?" Livvy shook her head. "It's like coke, but more so. Do you want to try some?" Livvy considered for a moment.

"Ohhh kay," she enunciated. Flyte smiled as she cracked open the can. Livvy's metabolism, having never met caffeine before, was about to be sent into a hopefully tongue-loosening orbit.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

As the two black-clad, heavily-armed aliens escorted Captain Kovack through the golden, ribbed corridors of Moya, he wondered whether their silence was to intimidate him or if they simply did not wish to speak. Either way, it did not overly concern Kovack. He had been trained to deal with intimidation as an interrogation tool and the silent treatment barely registered as such. He rationalized that be the guards chatty or silent, it would not affect whatever fate he was being marched towards.

To his surprise, and slight relief, he soon found that his destination was the command area for the alien spaceship. As he entered he noticed about half a dozen aliens going about various tasks. The human-looking one who left his post to meet him, Kovack already recognized as Lieutenant Nybar. The stony-faced Sebacean was, in the absence of Sun and Commander Crichton, acting commander of the alien ship.

Nybar led Kovack and his escort off to a large table, taking up one side of the command, where the grey-skinned female alien, Chiana, was waiting. To Kovack's eye, her face was showing even more distress than the last time he had seen her. She looked up at his approach, and, from her body language, seemed ready to launch herself physically at Kovack had Nybar not stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"That won't help, Chiana," Nybar said softly. Chiana brushed away a tear, and took a few steps to stand so that the table now stood between her and Kovack. She glared at the human with naked hostility. Nybar turned back to face Kovack, who, in turn, felt himself to be thoroughly in the dark as to what was bothering them.

"Captain Kovack," Nybar began, not in an entirely friendly manner, but rather civilly and evenly in his tone. "We have intercepted some disturbing broadcasts from your planet which you ought to see. Pilot, will you play the fourth recording please?"

Kovack stepped back in momentary surprise as a large, nearby object, like a half open clamshell, crackled and flickered, briefly showing something which looked like the face of a lobster crossed with a human, before displaying a recording from an Earth news broadcast in the form of a peculiar, transparent projection. But his shock at the clamshell was nothing as to his shock at the broadcast which was shown on it. According to the transmission, the X-469 had exploded in earth orbit, killing everyone aboard. Kovack stepped backwards in genuine shock, seeking in vain for somewhere to sit. The clear implication of the broadcast was that the definition of all those aboard included the entire human crew, most of who were, of course, still aboard Moya. Worse yet, the broadcast implied that an alien attack on the ship had caused the explosion.

"It seems, captain, that in common with a number of my friends, you are a dead man," Commented Nybar, in a voice devoid of humour or any other emotion, which Kovack could detect in his shocked state. The human swallowed nervously as Nybar continued. "Now, seeing as we did not detect any other vessels in the vicinity of your ship, it seems possible, likely even, that your own people decided that you and your crew were all better off dead. I am wondering why." He fixed Kovack with a quizzical eye.

"Rubbish!" Kovack protested, although clearly shaken and unconvinced of the veracity of his own position. He wondered if he had convinced anyone with his protest.

"My guess is that, once the humans discovered your ship was in our hands, they elected to destroy it, thus hoping to prevent evidence of their activities coming back to threaten them," put in the red-haired woman called Sikozu, who Kovack has not previously noticed was present on Command.

"You can't know that…" Kovack protested.

"It seems a reasonable assumption," Sikozu replied with a shrug, which implied that she could not help it if the human was too foolish to see the truth.

"Listen to me, Kovack:" Put in Nybar forcibly. "Whatever has happened to your ship and those aboard it, this crew will not allow the children of our Captain, and Crichton, to languish at the mercy of hostile aliens. I will not allow it. It is a matter of honour."

"I don't see what…" Kovack continued to try to protest.

"You will help us." Nybar spoke over him. "And in return, we will help you reclaim your lives from those amongst your kind who would have you dead. You owe them nothing now. That at least should be clear to you."

"You expect me just to betray my own country?" Kovack began. But his protests were half-hearted. Unless the explosion had been the result of a terrible accident, it did indeed seem possible that his own people had decided to kill him and his crew. And it was clear that, if true, those who had done so would be none too pleased about having to explain the return to Earth of any survivors. There would be too many questions, too many mouths to watch and silence. In such a scenario, it would be much easier if his crew disappeared. Besides, whether the destruction of his ship was accident or deliberate, cooperation with these aliens seemed to be the only route home open to him and his crew. Kovack shuddered as his thoughts were interrupted by Nybar, speaking again.

"Captain Kovack, I understand the choice facing you," Nybar continued, trying and largely failing to show some human sympathy.

"The hell you do," Kovack snorted, causing Chiana, who had watched a couple of John Wayne movies rather too often, to quickly suppress an involuntary giggle.

Nybar frowned at her before continuing. "I had to leave my old life behind, everything had been born and raised to, when I realized my leaders were wrong. Every Sebacean on this crew, every Peacekeeper, had to make that choice. When your leaders are wrong, you stop following them. Or have I misjudged you?"

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

With the exception of the grunting man underneath John, silence fell on the family room for a few microts.

"Have you really called the cops, Liv?" John asked, breaking the silence. His sister nodded in the affirmative.

"W… We thought you were burglars…. W… What are you doing showing up unannounced, breaking in?" Olivia stammered.

"Frell!" Hissed John again, this time with considerably more vehemence. Aeryn had already assessed the situation and holstered her pulse pistol. "Who's this?" John nodded at the man he was sitting on.

"Who the hell are you?" came the muffled reply.

"THIS is Larry, my husband…" Olivia explained, hardly believing what she was saying, "Larry, meet John, my brother."

"Oh!" John said. He stood and offered a hand to Larry to pull him up. "Umm, sorry 'bout whooping on you, man." John scratched the back of his head with his other hand in embarrassment. Larry, somewhat tentatively, took the offered hand as John continued the introductions. "And, umm, this is Aeryn, my wife."

Aeryn did little more than nod and grunt in acknowledgement as she swept round the others towards the front window, unholstering her pulse pistol as she went. Reaching the window she peered out, as though checking for something.

"Sirens, John!" she said in Sebacean, turning back to look at the three staring humans. "We have to go!"

"What the hell…?" began Larry in response to the indecipherable speech of the stern, armed, black leather-clad woman who had invaded his house.

Taking Larry and Livvy each by an elbow and spinning them back to face him, John spoke quickly and urgently.

"Look, we don't have much time. The government have our kids, Liv."

"Kids?" Exclaimed Olivia, with an excited sharp intake of breath. "I knew it…" she added in quiet triumph.

"Yeah, kids." John nodded as he continued. "And we'd be next if they knew we were here. You've gotta cover for us," John pleaded.

"What… why…?" Olivia began.

"Look, we're just back, and didn't know where else to go," John sincerely hoped that would cover it for now, because even he could hear the police siren now, and he knew they didn't have time for the full story, not before the police got there.

"Now hang on just a minute…" Larry tried again. "What exactly have you done? You some sort of criminals?"

"Larry, Aeryn's not human," Livvy interjected with patience. She and John watched for the penny to drop as Larry's eyes flicked to and thro from Aeryn to his wife, connecting the strange woman and man in his living room to the decade-and-a-half old pictures and videos he had seen of his wife's missing brother and alien companions. Obligingly, Larry's jaw flopped open as he made the connection and finally settled on staring at Aeryn.

"Don't stare, Larry, it's rude," Olivia admonished, one hand gently closing his mouth and turning his head back towards her as she spoke. Aeryn was now beside the front door, gun in hand, face grim.

"And that makes her, and our kids, valuable to the freaks in charge," explained John. "Look, tell them you left a window open and a cat got in… The cops don't have a clue about us being on Earth. They won't expect a thing." John put in as the sirens became clearly audible to the humans over their conversation.

Aeryn rushed back to the cluster of humans, ignoring Larry's latest, blunt, open-mouthed stare.

"They're here, we've got to act now, John!" she hissed in Sebacean, pulling at his arm. Her body language and manner of speaking demanded immediate decision and action from the group, even if Larry couldn't understand the clicks and tones which came from her mouth.

"Go, hide in one of the bedrooms, we'll get rid of them," Livvy insisted, coming to a decision and pushing John and Aeryn towards the door leading to the stairs.

"We will?" Larry asked, still confused, earning him a stare from Aeryn, half appraising, half threatening.

"We will!" confirmed Livvy, fixing her eyes on those of her husband to determine whether he could be relied on to see the plan through. She evidently decided he could, because her next words were. "Larry, go to the kitchen, make some coffee, open a window, knock over a pot plant. And you…" she called after her brother, "Are going to explain everything after the police have gone!"

A few moments later, John and Aeryn found themselves in what now seemed to be the master bedroom. Aeryn fidgeted around the room, torn between her need to do something and the more pressing need for silence. John sat on the bed, checking Winona.

"Two ground vehicles, four law-enforcers," Aeryn commentated, settling by the window, relying on the cover of a net curtain to avoid being seen. "Two are coming into the house." Then she fell silent as they both strained to hear the sounds from downstairs. They heard the sound of the front door opening, and muffled voices. Then came the sounds of people moving around downstairs, all to the accompaniment of more speaking. Aeryn shifted uneasily from foot to foot, then crept over to the bedroom door to try better to hear what was going on downstairs. It seemed to be taking an age for the enforcers to be satisfied. Then, just as suddenly as they had arrived, there was the sound of the front door slamming. Aeryn sprang back to the side of the window.

"They're leaving," Aeryn hissed somewhat unnecessarily.

"Way to go, Liv," John commented as he got back to his feet and holstered his pulse pistol.

Aeryn bounced across to where John stood and seized him in an embrace as some of her tension melted away.

At that moment the door opened, "S'okay you can come….. Ohh!" exclaimed Livvy as she walked in on her brother and his wife with their lips and bodies pressed together. Aeryn and John half turned to her and John freed one of his hands. He ran his fingers through his hair and gave a boyish, lopsided grin to match Aeryn's enigmatic Mona Lisa smile.

"You owe me and Larry an explanation," Livvy continued, red-faced, once she'd gotten over her own slight embarrassment. After all, it wasn't as though they'd been up to anything, really. It was just that she'd never seen John and Aeryn so physically intimate before. Although she knew there had been something between them during their last visit to Earth, they had barely touched each other, even by accident or in passing. To see them in an actual clinch was a new experience to John's sister which provoked all sorts of conflicting emotional reactions in her.

"Come on, John," Aeryn said, pulling him by the hand towards the door. "I've waited cycles to have this talk with your sister," she muttered.

Five minutes later, Aeryn and John sat on one the two sofas in the family room, seemingly part of the same eight- limbed leather organism, while Larry and Livvy fussed around bringing through coffee before settling opposite them on the other sofa.

"So, John. Well, umm, you're looking remarkably well preserved for a man of your age," began Livvy as she made to sit.

"I could say the same about you, little sis," John countered.

Livvy frowned, her casual opening gambit having turned unexpectedly serious. "Yeah, it's odd that. So's Dad."

"How is he? Where is he?" John responded, ignoring for the moment the difficult subject of the mystery of his prolonged youth.

"He's fine John. No, really fine, considering his age." She frowned again, considering the matter. Jack really ought to be looking and acting much older by now. "He moved out, said Larry and I needed this place more than he did. Anyway, about you? What have you two been up to these last 16 years? And you can start by telling me just what was going on with you two last time you were home," she insisted with an arched eyebrow.

John squirmed in his seat for a few moments, not wanting to go into the gory details, before he noticed that Aeryn was similarly uncomfortable. Her back had gone ramrod straight, was sucking on her bottom lip and twisting her hands together. He slung a comforting arm around her and pulled himself closer to her.

"Look, sis, we'd had a couple of big rows before we found Earth. Neither of us want to drag all that up again. 'Specially not right now, when we've got other things to worry about. We were back together soon afterwards, anyhow, and have been ever since…." He began. Livvy sighed at being thwarted in finding out what she wanted to know. However, seeing the obvious discomfort of John and, most especially Aeryn, she decided to let it go for now. But she resolved to return to the matter again before too long.

"OK, how'd you get back together then?" Livvy asked.

"Hmm, well, we accidentally let a big, nasty critter aboard Moya…" Aeryn began, grinning wickedly. Livvy guessed that perhaps that was not an unusual occurrence in their lives back then.

For the next hour, the four of them sat in the family room while John told his sister the short story of the last 17 cycles. Much coffee was consumed by all three humans, whilst Aeryn declined the bitter, caffeinated drink in favour of a cold fruit juice. For most of the time Aeryn sat in silence, happy for John to take the lead, only contributing to the story when John faltered or Livvy asked her a direct question. Livvy's questions were largely on matters related to her new found sister in law, niece or nephew. Larry sat silently for most of the hour, alternating between staring in disbelief at John and his story, or staring in disbelief at the exotic alien woman sitting on his sofa.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

It had been another long meeting that morning and TR Holt was glad to get back to the sanity and calm of his office. He started the process of munching his lunch even as he opened up his emails and began to work through his inbox, which was already overflowing after just three hours away from his desk. Three bites into his Sub he stopped dead and reread a short email he might easily have skipped over and deleted.

After the X-469 had returned to Earth with it's unwelcome crew supplement, he and his people had instigated a contingency plan for passive surveillance of anyone or anything connected to Crichton. And here was just the sort of thing that he had been thinking of when he had put the plan into action: On the face of it, it was just a brief police report from Florida. Earlier that day, Olivia Neville, John Crichton's sister, had called 911 to report a housebreaking in progress. When the police had arrived, she had claimed it to be a mistake, that a local cat had gotten into her kitchen unnoticed and knocked over some pans, causing Mrs. Neville to panic and fear the worst.

Holt sat for a moment, thinking, then lifted the phone and dialed.

"Dave? T.R. Holt here. Look, I'm going to need to pull in a favour…. Hmm, yeah. You remember the Moyan visit, years back? The aliens. M'ya. John Crichton. Well, I want you to set a couple of agents to watch John Crichton's immediate family. Sisters, father, nephew. Great….. Oh, straight away. What they looking for? Could be anything out of the ordinary. But make sure the agents know what John Crichton and Aeryn Sun look like… Hmm, maybe. That's what I'm trying to find out. You find out anything, you call me. Anytime, day or night. Yup. Thanks, I owe you."

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

The two men had retired to the den, where John peered over Larry's shoulder as Larry scoured the internet for some information about what might have happened to the two missing children. John couldn't help but marvel at how far computers had come in the last 17 years.

Aeryn kept Livvy company in the kitchen, trying as best they could to catch up on nearly two decades of unshared family news. Aeryn found that she quite enjoyed talking to her old friend. As she had nearly twenty years ago, Livvy seemed to have the same knack as her brother for breaking through Aeryn's reserve and setting her at ease. Within half an arn they were talking with an easy familiarity, almost as though they had talked to each other every weeken or so for cycles.

"Watcha found?" John asked Larry in the den, as he stood behind his new-found brother-in-law, cradling a beer. Larry jabbed at the screen, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the other hand.

"Fairfax International. They have the exclusive contract to exploit all technology from the Deep Space programme. Some stuff seems to get contracted out, but everything goes through them," Larry explained as John peered closer. They both knew that John could read the screen perfectly well for himself, but it all added to the bonding.

John nodded sagely. "So, where do we find this Fairfax?" Larry tapped on another few keys.

"Their head office is here," he pointed, about 50 miles outside Washington. Looks pretty big, too, from the pictures on their website. Looks like that's where most of their R&D is based, too."

"Handy," John nodded.

After another 10 minutes searching, they started to find a name which interested them: Dr. Katherine Flyte, head of Bioscience R&D at Fairfax International's head office.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Olivia bustled around the kitchen making lunch whilst simultaneously chattering away to John and Aeryn. Larry had remained in the den to think up and deliver an excuse for not going into work that afternoon, apparently keen to spend time with his long lost brother-in-law. As the day had worn on, he even seemed to be slowly coming round to treating Aeryn just like another human.

"S'Larry cool with all this?" John asked his sister softly, with more tact than usual for him.

"Oh, yeah, he's fine," Olivia dismissed easily, pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven. John eyed them hungrily and Olivia warned him off with a faux-swat to his arm from her free hand.

"It's just he seemed a bit freaked. By Aeryn'n all. I guess it's not every day you find out your sister in law's an alien?" John added less tactfully.

"I wish you'd stop using that word, it's not helping any," Livvy scolded. Feeling the need to show her support, Livvy stopped as she passed Aeryn and reached out to give her a hug. "You got everything you want there, hon? Another juice. A cookie?" Aeryn shook her head, marveling at the human urge to deal with problems by snacking. At least John was a talker, not a snacker, she mused. Otherwise, she'd have had to put him on an even more rigorous exercise regime.

At that moment, Larry rushed back into the kitchen, made straight for the TV and flicked it on. Aeryn watched Larry as he crossed the room. Although he obviously kept it under some semblance of control, from his figure, Larry was definitely a snacker.

"Larry, not now!" Livvy protested, but Larry ignored her, flicking through stations with the remote until he found a news channel covering the story he wanted. He stopped changing channels, cranked up the volume and pointed at the screen.

"… lost contact at 11.30 PM, Eastern Standard Time. Early reports indicate that there was an explosion aboard, and reliable sources have hinted, off the record, that an alien attack may have been responsible…" the report continued, showing pictures of the X-469 and various members of its crew, including Paterson and Kovack. Larry turned to look at John and Aeryn. John had already moved to stand behind Aeryn and they were leaning on each other for support, left hands clasped on her shoulder.

"Did your people…..?" began Larry.

"Hell, no!" protested John. "But we did come back on that ship."

"We had friends on that ship," whispered Aeryn, wiping away a tear from her eye.

"And the Government thought we were aboard," John added. "Frell. I've a very bad feeling about this…."

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"


	10. Chapter 9

Livvy piloted her Civic northwards through the urban sprawl towards the interstate, and thence towards the Prowler. The plan was for Livvy to drop them off near the Prowler and for John and Aeryn to head north in it in order to pay a visit to Fairfax. Aeryn sat beside Livvy, leafing through the CDs in the glove box. A frown of variable depth measured Aeryn's incomprehension of the cover art on each CD case she came to.

"I can't believe you know to "call shotgun"," John whined at Aeryn from the backseat, where he was picking through what seemed to be three years' worth of abandoned flyers, bags and other detritus.

Aeryn twisted in her seat and grinned at him. "Twenty years of listening to a crazy Erpman, I'm bound to learn a thing or two." She teased. "Besides, when it comes to riding shotgun, I'm by far the better shot."

Livvy giggled at that, before putting her fingers to her lips to try to hide her mirth. "Just put the radio on, if you can't find something you like," she added to Aeryn, who had just shoved the CDs back into the glove box.

Aeryn stared at the dashboard for a long few microts, "How do you…?" she asked at last.

Livvy flashed a brief smile at her sister-in-law. "Sorry I keep forgetting," Livvy flicked the radio on. "Just keep hitting this button until you find something you like."

Aeryn obliged, and several channels later, she found something which held her attention. She even began to rock her head slightly in time to the beat. John leaned forward and tapped Aeryn on the shoulder.

"Hey," John opened.

"Hmm? Hey yourself," Aeryn countered.

"Do you… do you really like this?" John asked almost in shock.

"Mmm hmm, I think so," Aeryn continued to nod her head. John sat back with an audible harrumph as Livvy smirked to the sounds of Tom Jones filling the car.

"You've better taste than John," Livvy added conspiratorially. "The stuff he likes sounds like a herd of elephants in a musical instrument store." John grumbled incoherently in disagreement. "You should pick up some music while you're on Earth. I'll help you choose some if you like, Aeryn," she added, knowing and enjoying the fact that her brother would be stewing in the back seat wondering what sort of musical future his sister was going to inflict on him. "Hang on a minute," Livvy continued, verbalizing her train of thought as she pulled the car off the road and onto the gas station. "Gotta stock up before we hit the interstate."

Being a gentleman, John couldn't resist insisting on filling up the tank, leaving Livvy and Aeryn free to go and wander round the little store. Despite Livvy's protests, Aeryn insisted on bringing the oversized handbag Livvy had lent her to conceal her weapons in.

"You Earth women never go anywhere without your bags: I've seen you." Aeryn insisted.

"Well, yes, but that's so we have everything we need to hand…" Livvy tried to explain.

"Essentials? Pulse pistols, pulse grenades, frag rifle…." Aeryn ticked off. "Is that the sort of thing you mean?" She asked suppressing a chuckle, knowing full well that a typical Earth woman would not be carrying a handbag containing little but assorted weaponry.

Once John had finished filling the tank he joined Aeryn and Livvy in the shop and they all wandered around for a few minutes, eyeing the merchandise. By the time Livvy came to pay, John had acquired a small basket of chocolate and other junk food, a couple of assorted magazines and a single "Best of Tom Jones" CD, which he pressed on Livvy with a pleading look, begging her with his eyes to keep it a secret from Aeryn. Livvy glanced over to where Aeryn stood, on the other side of the store, inspecting her way through a shelf of household cleaning goods with a perplexed expression, and gave John an indulgent smile as she took the basket.

"A married man with kids. And you're still bumming off your little sis?"

"No cash," John shrugged.

Livvy lifted the CD and, having checked Aeryn wasn't looking their way, waved it in front of him, "You're such a sweety," she teased, as she flounced off to pay. John sighed and browsed his way around the store until he saw that Olivia had paid and was heading over.

"Aeryn, time to go!" John called. She looked across, nodded and put down the box of washing powder she had been examining and made to rendezvous with John and Livvy at the door.

"So many different cleaning products, but nothing for leathers…" Aeryn muttered absent mindedly as they got back in the car, followed soon after by Livvy. "How do humans keep their leathers clean?" She mused. As she got in, Livvy casually slung her shopping bag into the back with her brother.

"All yours, bro." Livvy laughed with a sassy wink and a grin.

After a few minutes back out on the road, John opened one of his chocolate bars and offered it around. As Aeryn turned to take a piece from him, she frowned.

"What is it, babe?" John asked.

"There is a vehicle behind us which I think was at the gas station. I think I remember it being behind us from before then, as well."

"Describe it," asked John, deliberately not looking round: If they were being followed, there was no sense in tipping people off

"All your vehicles look alike to me," she shrugged, taking some of the chocolate from him. "It's black, a little bigger than this one, but not as much as one of the ones the agents liked to use when we visited before."

"Kay," John said with a nod and thought for a moment whilst Aeryn popped the chocolate into her mouth.

"Do you want some? Chocolate?" Aeryn asked Livvy casually, twisting in her seat and making the human woman wonder how Aeryn could be so calm under the circumstances. Livvy shook her head.

"Sis, can you take a few random turns? Nothing too drastic or obvious. Let's just see if they keep following." John asked. 100 microts later, they had their answer.

"Frell!" Aeryn remarked, somewhat off-handedly to Olivia's reckoning. "They're still with us."

John frowned as he planned their next move whilst Aeryn began to check through the contents of her oversized handbag. Livvy writhed in her seat and fiddled nervously with the steering wheel and other controls.

"Hmm, I've got a plan," began John.

Aeryn looked up sharply with a pained expression and turned in her seat to lecture him. "Do not even suggest us splitting up, John." She snapped. The memory of an earlier, fateful ground vehicle chase had suddenly come back to her, and there was no way in hezmanna that she was going to revisit any aspect of that experience.

"S'okay, wasn't going to." He soothed. "Livvy, if we can lose sight of them for just a few seconds, Aeryn and I should make a run for it. Hopefully, by the time they realize we're no longer aboard, we'll have made ourselves scarce. Reckon you'll be safer if we're off the scene."

Olivia was not exactly happy with John's idea, but she couldn't think of anything better. She could see the sense in it, but she didn't want John and Aeryn to go, having only had them back in her life for a few hours.

"John, go through my bag, take out whatever cash you can find, you'll need it," Livvy insisted, determined to defuse the emotional tension and contribute something solid to the plan. "And my credit card, the code is 6739."

John set to rifling his sister's handbag. Whilst Livvy continued taking them down random turns, deeper and deeper into a run-down neighbourhood.

"Perfect, Liv," John encouraged. "All these alleys and side streets should really help our disappearing act."

"You make sure you take care. Both of you," Livvy demanded, sniffling back a tear. "And I expect you to bring those kids back to visit."

John squeezed her shoulder. "We'll do our best, sis. That's a promise." He said, the words almost catching in his throat. Right now, he wasn't convinced that things would work out that well for any of them.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

As Holt washed his hands, he felt his Blackberry buzzing insistently in his pocket. After quickly drying, he pulled it out, noting who was calling.

"Dave?" he snapped.

"TR. Geez, I thought you were never going to answer. Look, I've a couple of agents trailing your principals through Miami in the sister's Honda. Looks like our guys've been made, as the targets are taking a more and more erratic route."

"Damn!" TR cursed. "Look, we need to intercept them, take them into custody. But they're likely to be armed and dangerous. Get your people to call a SWAT team in for backup. I'll get a team of mine together to take them off the hands of the locals. No-one's to talk to them, got it? No one!"

"OK, in progress as soon as we end this call."

"Great. Call me when it's done," Holt finished, breaking the call. He was already rushing towards the relative privacy of his office to warn his own people and to order a security team to go and pick up Crichton and Sun. Best add a medical team, too, he added to himself. He was pretty certain the couple wouldn't be taken without a fight, and fights meant injuries. It might take more than a bit of first aid to get them to a suitable facility alive.


	11. Chapter 10

Aeryn and John picked their way through a large, abandoned factory, debating with some animation what they should do next. Any furniture or other decorations that had once been in the factory were long gone, although a few concrete bastions, floors and other solid lumps jutted out here and there.

They had taken their leave from Livvy with relative ease in the maze of run-down streets and alleys, and were now keeping under cover as much as possible, well aware of the risk of discovery threatened by the occasional police siren or the sound of a helicopter nearby.

Abruptly, from behind a half-demolished wall, two youths, one too scrawny, the other too fat, appeared in Aeryn and John's path, blocking the way. It was clear that this was not an accidental meeting, as both youths were brandishing knives towards John and Aeryn. A microt or three later a couple more youths appeared behind John and Aeryn, making their presence known through their remarkably un-catlike stealth and agility.

"Frell!" muttered Aeryn, cursing that she had allowed herself to be sufficiently distracted by her argument with John to be ambushed. She hated being ambushed. Someone was going to regret this.

"Whatcha got in the bag, bitch?" sneered the scrawny youth. John winced. Despite his diction being of a type with which Aeryn was entirely unfamiliar, he was fairly certain that Aeryn would have got the insult, whether translated by the microbes or through her now quite well-developed English vocabulary.

Aeryn merely raised an eyebrow and held the bag out slightly with one hand. "Why don't you come and take a look?" she said, her crisp, British accent and blank expression displaying no hint of emotion. None that the would-be muggers could read, anyhow.

The fatter youth took a step forward. "P'raps I will. An' take a look at what you got hidden under that coat," he leered, scoping Aeryn up and down with a lascivious stare. "You strayed into the wrong 'hood here, lady," he menaced. Aeryn simply gazed back, her face an impassive mask hiding that she was preparing her mind and body for a violent outburst at the first suitable opportunity.

"Bad idea. Don't you guys watch any movies?" John muttered to himself.

"Wassat?" rejoined the speaker with evident agitation. He was not used to his victims having a conversation with him.

John turned his upper body through 90 degrees in order to eye up the two hoodlums behind them, confident that Aeryn could deal with the two boys in front. Indeed, what sounded like a bone breaking was his cue to pantak jab the nearest would-be mugger behind them. He almost winced in sympathy for the muggers facing Aeryn: Before John even followed through with his pantak jab, he could hear the fatter mugger screaming in pain, presumably from whatever part of his anatomy that Aeryn had just broken. That sound was soon interrupted by the thinner youth screaming in fear at, John imagined, whatever concealed weapon Aeryn had just pulled on him. As the mugger he had jabbed crumpled, John swept on towards the second. A couple of swift PK-commando moves saw John neutralizing the knife of his assailant then dropping the boy to the ground. Unlike Aeryn, John had been brought up only knowing about playground brawls and staged fights in the movies and on TV. Hence, he was still always half-surprised by the speed with which overwhelming violence could start and end a real fight. Aeryn had no such illusions to shatter. The application of overpowering violence had been her life until she had met John. To her, it was just business.

"Amateurs…" John crooned. Aeryn ignored him.

Seeing that his hoodlums seemed to have been dealt with, John backed off to check on both Aeryn and the overall situation. That was when he realized that he had not been fast enough in the fight. Somewhere along the line, he had sustained a cut to his left forearm. He absent mindedly cursed the fact that the sleeve of his favourite coat had been damaged as he watched the two still conscious assailants flee the scene. Priorities, John, it's just a coat, he scolded himself, but could not shake off the regret at having his clothing damaged. Wounds could heal, but clothes, once ruined, were ruined forever.

Aeryn stalked around the scene, checking that each of the prone attackers was truly unconscious with a few well-aimed kicks, before returning to John's side.

"You're hurt." she commented in her matter of fact manner.

"It's nothing," he insisted, strangely reluctant to let her see. Somewhere inside he was a little ashamed at having allowed himself to be wounded by such minor adversaries.

"That's dren. Let me see," she insisted, fixing him with a no-nonsense look.

John sat on a nearby lump of concrete and Aeryn settled next to him. With some reluctance, John let Aeryn take a look at his arm. After what seemed to John to be a too-cursory inspection, she let go of his elbow and shrugged.

"You'll live."

"Is that all!" John protested, a little hurt and disappointed that Aeryn had opted for the PK field triage approach rather than the loving, concerned wife approach.

Aeryn considered for a microt. "We need to get it dealt with, though. And we need to eat and drink. And we need some transport. Come on." Aeryn ordered, getting back to her feet and hefting her bag over her shoulder before offering her other hand to John to help him stand. Well, she was offering to help him to his feet. At least that was something.

"Yes, boss," he responded, trailing after her obediently, taking whatever sympathy he could get.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

"You again?" sneered Deke, looking up from the video game that he was playing as Flyte, accompanied as ever by two guards, entered his cell. He was quite enjoying playing the surly teenager now. From the reactions of his captors, he thought he might be getting quite proficient at it. His parents were always telling him to take opportunities to learn new skills. He wasn't so sure they would approve of this one, though.

"Leave us," Flyte instructed her escorts. The two men looked uncomfortable with the instruction, but complied. When they had gone, Flyte spoke again, although, for now, she stayed close to the door.

"You're doing extraordinarily well with that game. In fact, all the assessments we have of you show you to be exceptional in every way, for a child of your age," Flyte opened, trying some flattery to see whether that would get him to respond better.

Shocked, Deke began to realize how much information he might have unintentionally given his captors just through the things he had done to relieve the boredom of captivity. He bit his lower lip and placed the video controller down on the table, swearing to himself to be more careful in future. "Well, that's the last time…" he muttered to himself. The remark did not go unnoticed by Flyte, who was close to despairing of getting him to be sufficiently cooperative to placate Beth Laszlo's demands for valuable information.

Flyte took a step closer. "Deke. Listen to me. You have to start cooperating!" She hissed in frustration.

"Or you'll… what?" he taunted with a petulant toss of his head. Flyte took a deep breath and almost visibly counted to ten.

"It's not me you need to worry about. It's the people in charge, my bosses. They want more. They want to know more about you. If you won't give them anything, then…. Then they'll start taking."

"What do you mean?" Deke asked. Although in his manner he still tried to be defiant, underneath, he was uneasy about the implications of what she had said. Flyte picked up on that unease with something approaching relief.

The doctor sighed. She wasn't sure how to put this, and sure as hell wasn't comfortable with the way things seemed to be developing with her bosses and the people like Holt that they seemed to be close to. She cast her eyes around the cell, as though checking they were alone, even though she knew they were. She had made sure the microphones in the cell were turned off before entering, against just this possibility. Finally, she blurted out: "You give them information, perform for them, then hopefully that'll keep them happy. You give them nothing, then they'll think all they'll get from you is a few experiments. And maybe an autopsy…."

Deke paled, but his voice remained almost steady as he asked, "Are you threatening me?"

"No!" Flyte exploded in frustration. "I'm trying to protect you Deke. You and your sister. But I'm losing that battle. Help me, help you. Please."

"I'll think about it," he conceded, looking away in order to both annoy and dismiss her, as well as to hide his own raging emotions at these new threats.

"You do that, but do it quickly…" Flyte almost pleaded. Deke nodded, picked up the games controller, and went back to his game, although now he was finding it difficult to concentrate.

"~~~~~~~~"

"This place will do," Aeryn insisted as they approached the low, grey almost featureless building. A selection of motorcycles, several of them customized, all chrome and bright paintwork, were parked by the entrance. A selection of garish, tattered posters shouted about the earthy delights and entertainments sometimes hosted within the establishment.

"Honey, I'm not so sure…" John began to try to explain about the inadvisability of entering certain sorts of bars on Earth if you were not their regular clientele.

"Nonsense. The signs make it clear that they serve refreshments all day, and it looks like a good place to acquire some ground transportation," she concluded, eyeing the multiple, what did John call them? Ah yes, motorbikes parked outside. Not waiting for John to reply, she marched up a short flight of wooden steps to the door and, after checking access to her two concealed weapons, pushed through the flimsy door and stepped inside.

John shrugged: It looked like they were committed. He hurried up the steps and inside to find out what trouble his wife had gotten them into this time. As he went, he tried to reassure himself that they'd regularly walked into far less salubrious joints back home in the UTs without trouble. But, for some reason, here on Earth John felt inclined to apply a much stricter set of standards regarding the sort of refreshment house they ought, or ought not, to enter.

John reached the door just as it flapped shut behind Aeryn, and just in time to hear what sounded like every conversation in the bar fall silent. Only the muffled sound of what sounded like a sports commentary on a TV continued. Oh dren! He thought. Bracing himself, John stepped inside only five microts behind Aeryn.

There were maybe a dozen occupants already in the bar, all adults, and all dressed in a mix of denim and leather in various states of repair, ranging from the immaculate to the heavily decomposed. The décor of the bar was also somewhere in between those extremes, but had clearly never been much more than utilitarian and been designed to cope with rough use. There was room for maybe ten to twenty times as many customers than were present, had it been a busy night rather than the middle of a working day. John wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad thing that there were so few people in the bar: With only a few customers, strangers stuck out more.

Half a dozen patrons, the meanest looking ones, were gathered around a pool table, whilst a smaller group sat drinking the afternoon away at a table. Two elderly gentlemen sat at the bar, studiously avoiding contact with anything but their beer bottles. High on the wall in one corner hung the single TV, vainly spewing forth some cable sports channel to an audience of none. A lone woman, who was also dressed in leather, stood behind the bar. She was tall and slim with aquiline features, long, black hair and exuded self-confidence. Indeed, John thought, she looked a lot like Aeryn. If Aeryn had been a few years older, covered in tattoos and had spent her life working in a biker bar.

In the time it took John to assess the room and its occupants, they had all clearly assessed the two newcomers. Almost as one the denizens of the establishment went back to their drinks, their game of pool and their bartending, deciding that the hardened, confident looking leather-clad young couple didn't look like they'd be any trouble if they were left alone. Or, if they were trouble, that they'd be more trouble than was worth getting involved in.

John knew that they'd been in far rougher establishments out in the uncharted territories, but now he was back on Earth, he just couldn't share Aeryn's obvious casual calm and confidence about being in such a potentially dangerous place.

"It's a rowdy place, it's out in the middle of nowhere, there's no cops and it's open from dusk till dawn," John muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Aeryn said over her shoulder, her loud, crisp English-sounding accent temporarily redrawing the attention of a couple of the closer denizens of the bar. Thank Cholak she'd the presence of mind to ask in English not Sebacean, John sighed.

"Nothin', Sunshine," he replied, being sure to speak loud enough to broadcast his all-American bona fides to any who were listening.

"Come on, then," Aeryn said, beginning to make her way towards a booth on the quieter, far side of the room.

"Hey, lady, there ain't no waitress service here," called out the barkeep as Aeryn moved past. Aeryn turned and stared at her tattooed doppelganger for a few microts, cocking her head and frowning quizzically. Then she shook the strange thoughts out of her head and nodded, making her way over to the bar.

"What sort of food do you serve?" asked Aeryn evenly as John joined her at the bar. Unlike Aeryn, he was unable to avoid continuing to openly scan the room for trouble.

"You ain't from round here, are you, hon?" the barwoman directed at Aeryn with the hint of a smile.

"Actually, no…" Aeryn began with a wistful smile.

"She's from England," John interrupted, accentuating his own southern accent in an attempt to ingratiate them slightly with their host.

"Really? I've got a cousin over in…"

"It's a big place, bigger'n you'd think," John headed off what he knew was coming, knowing also that Aeryn would be unable to maintain her assumed English identity for more than a few microts if that conversation got going.

"Just that not many strangers come in here. Fewer still ask for a menu," the barkeep smiled a lopsided grin as she pushed a small, tatty menu across the bar. "What you riding?" she asked Aeryn, eyeing the couple's leathers and jumping to an incorrect, albeit helpful, conclusion.

"You should choose, John," Aeryn said, handing the dog-eared menu across to her husband, but also subtly referring to the woman's question. "I do not know what most of this is."

"Oh, huh… sure." he responded, taking the menu with a nod, catching on. "Umm, it's an old Triumph, but we had a bit of a problem." He indicated where his jacket sleeve had been damaged by the would-be mugger earlier that afternoon. "Two chicken enchiladas, please."

"Drinks?"

"Oh yeah, um, a cola. And a soda."

"And a bottle of water," Aeryn added. The barkeep frowned. Them wanting food was bad enough, but not ordering beer was…. Unthinkable. John could see the disapproval on the bar owner's face.

"She's expecting, and I'm driving," he explained, earning himself a scowl and a kick from Aeryn but a slight thaw in the attitude of the barkeeper.

"That'll be twenty two dollars. Here's your drinks. I'll bring the food over in ten minutes." John nodded and, having paid using some of their scarce cash reserves, led Aeryn back towards the booth where she had originally planned to sit.

"Get your coat off, I need to look at that arm," Aeryn stated once they had arrived at their booth. Nodding, John slipped off his coat and sat facing Aeryn across the table. He extended his arm towards her and she began to inspect the wound with a practiced eye and a surprisingly delicate touch, using paper napkins from the table and water from the bottle to gently clean his forearm. As Aeryn was finishing up, the barkeep came across, bearing two plates.

"That was quick," Aeryn commented.

"The wonders of microwaves and TV dinners," the woman said with a shrug. "Sure you have them in England?" Aeryn didn't reply, clearing her first-aid debris from the table so they had somewhere to set the plates. "That looks a nasty cut," the woman added, turning her attention to John.

"Yeah, we fell off our bike, remember." John explained, as Aeryn finished cleaning the wound.

"Yeah. Right." replied the barkeep flatly. In her trade and in this neighbourhood, it didn't do to question peoples' stories about how they came by different wounds, but she'd seen enough in her time to know the difference between a knife wound and a motorbike crash injury. The woman turned to go but stopped dead in her tracks before taking a step.

"Hey you're on TV, Captain," the barkeep said quietly, half turning to look at Aeryn. Aeryn stiffened and turned even paler than her normal complexion as she looked up to see the truth of the words. John likewise twisted round to watch, although his face turned red as the report sank in. A news bulletin had interrupted the sport, and both Aeryn and John were the current subjects. They were only on screen for a few microts, but between the pictures of them and the X-473, and the words both spoken and shown, it was clear that Aeryn and John were now being sought as enemies of the state, blamed for the destruction of the human spaceship and thought likely to commit some other crime at any moment. The report concluded with a statement that they were likely armed, dangerous and should not be challenged if seen. Aeryn's hand moved instinctively towards her bag and the weapons contained within.

"Don't do nuthin' foolish," the barwoman drawled, seeing Aeryn's hand moving towards her oversized bag. "Ain't no one in here watchin' the news save us, and I sure ain't your enemy. Finish up your food."

"And then?" John asked.

"And then I reckon we'll go out back and talk," the barkeep finished calmly. After a quick glance at Aeryn then John, she turned and walked back to the bar as if nothing had happened.

Ten minutes later, John and Aeryn found themselves entering some sort of rough, cramped and dirty back-office behind the bar. The barkeep followed them in and shut the door, with its one-way glass window back to the bar.

"It's a quiet afternoon, 'n they're all regulars: They'll call if they need me," she said by way of explanation. "I'm Ramie, by the way. And we all know who you two are," she finished with a winsome smile.

"Why would you help us? Not turn us in?" asked John, getting straight to the key point.

"Hey, I don't believe a thing the Government or media says. An' even if I did, we've no love lost…." she explained, offering them a cigarette from a scrappy packet. Both John and Aeryn shook their heads to decline the offer. "Besides, who else is likely to offer me a trip on a spaceship?"

"Those'll be the death of you, you know," John insisted as Ramie went to light up. Ramie stared at him and shrugged, but didn't light up and put the cigarette back in her packet.

"So, what's your real story?" Ramie asked, tossing her hair back and taking a swig from a glass of beer. John sighed, wondering how to play this. The truth seemed the best way to go, he decided.

"Simple really. They've taken our kids, and looks like they'll do or say anything to make sure that stays a secret."

"Kids, huh? You don't seem the sort," she said, giving Aeryn an appraising glance.

"You'd be surprised," Aeryn retorted.

"So, did you blow up that space ship?" Ramie asked with surprising directness, knowing full-well it was a good way to shock people into revealing the truth.

"Hell no! We had friends on that ship." John replied, unable to hide his emotions.

"But we do need to get back to our own ship. More so now our pictures are being broadcast on your television," Aeryn put in.

"We just want to get our kids back and get the hell out of here," John added.

"What would you need to get to your ship?"

"Transport, mainly. S'too far to walk." John shrugged. Aeryn immediately picked up from where John had left off, never one to demure about what she needed for a mission.

"We'll need a bike and two helmets," she said, her face and voice flat and emotionless as she outlined what she thought was required to get them back to the Prowler. Then, remembering one of John's movies, a smile creased her face. "Sunglasses would be nice. But you can keep your pants and your gun. Mine are better."

"What have I created?" John wondered aloud with a sigh.


	12. Chapter 11

Aeryn switched off the motorbike's engine, pulled off her helmet and shook her hair loose. "That was fun!" she exclaimed with the broadest of grins. She was almost oblivious to the determination with which Crichton had scrambled from the pillion as soon as she had brought the bike to an abrupt, dusty halt.

John pulled off his own helmet and shook his own head with a wan expression, as though the shaking would make all the scary memories go away. He felt that for almost every inch of the last few dozen miles he had cause to regret letting Aeryn take the controls of the motorbike. John had taken pilot duties for the first few miles after leaving the bar, until they had gotten to more deserted roads, but then Aeryn's constant badgering to let her try had worn him down. When they had stopped to send a postcard to Ramie, with the details of where they would leave her bike, John had been unable to resist his wife any longer. They had settled on the postcard as a safe way for everyone of letting Ramie know where to find the bike, as it meant they would be long gone by the time she knew where they were heading with it. If she didn't know anything, she couldn't tell anything.

Once they had swapped pilot and pillion positions, Aeryn had spent a couple of miles getting the hang of the motorbike, and then had indulged her passion for speed in a way that had unnerved even John, despite his own extensive past experience with fast cars and bikes.

"Everything I've said about this being a primitive, deficient planet, I take it all back!" She said, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

It was almost worth the terror of riding with her just to see her that excited about something, John thought for a moment. Actually, no, he decided, remembering one particular overtaking maneuver round some trucks that had reminded him of the original Star Wars movie, when the rebel ships had been dodging along a canyon to attack the Death Star.

"I am never getting on the back of one of those frelling things with you again!" John stated flatly. In his mind's eye he had a vision of he and Aeryn, tattooed and bandana-d, riding off into the desert sunset on two extravagantly decorated 'choppers.' He dismissed the thought, thankful at that moment at least that the bike they had borrowed was of the modern, sporty, Japanese variety. But then Aeryn always was more of a Kawasaki Ninja than an Easy Rider. John shook his head, trying to break his train of thought: It was getting a bit peculiar even for him.

"Fine, but if we come back here, I want to get one. For me," Aeryn grinned back at him, chewing on her bottom lip and still bouncing from foot to foot like an excited teenager. John didn't return the smile. There'd been too many times in the last arn that he had been seriously worried for all of their lives: Aeryn, himself, and the baby. Although he had sort of gotten used to the fact that the stasis pregnancy would protect the baby from just about anything, that didn't include the death of it's mother.

"Aeryn, you may be an ace pilot, with lightning reflexes and all, but you're not used to dealing with earth traffic. And besides, no matter how good you are, it only takes some other idiot to do something really stupid…." John lectured, half aware of the fact that his dad had had more than one very similar talk at him when he had been a teenager. He could see Aeryn starting to scowl back at him. Hadn't he learnt after all these years that she wasn't the sort to appreciate that sort of talking-to? "Frell, I'm turning into my dad," he concluded, muttering to himself.

Aeryn snorted in mirth at his last remark, the pressure relieved on what had been her rapidly boiling temper. She decided a change in subject was in order. "Come on. We've a lot of motras to cover before nightfall, old man."

And with that, and a teasing swing in her hips as she walked, she hefted her bag over her shoulder and began to make towards the nearby Prowler.

"Hey, what d'you call me?" John frowned as he hurried after her.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Chiana stared at Kovack as he picked over the plate of food she had just brought him.

"Aren't you scared to be in her with me, alone?" He asked her.

Chiana snorted in derision. "Try something and find out," she taunted.

"I don't think so. Not after the last time." he replied, remembering his tussle with Aeryn. He'd learnt the hard way not to make assumptions about the fighting skills of this crew. Besides, the grey girl was probably well aware that even if he did overpower her, he'd still be stuck in this cell, and her allies would doubtless be along to rescue her and seek revenge soon enough. He pushed another of the truly awful food cubes into his mouth and forced himself to swallow with the aid of a shot of water. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" Other than do you have anything half decent to eat on this ship, he added to himself.

"You can ask," Chiana replied non-committally.

"You say you're a peaceful ship, but you seem to have a pretty aggressive set up: No shortage of cells," he gestured around him. "Or soldiers."

Chiana considered for a few microts how much she should tell him, eventually deciding that being level with him might lead them to understanding each other better. Besides, he was from John's planet: she couldn't really take him seriously as a threat.

"Moya was a prison ship," she shrugged.

"Prisoners, well that figures," he snorted.

"No!" interrupted Chiana, suddenly angry at the annoying human and his assumptions. "You don't get it at all! There's no one aboard now who was a prisoner, from that time, except Pilot. Aeryn and John were there, sort of, but they weren't prisoners!"

"OK, OK. Keep your hair on. But what about all the soldiers? You're not exactly the peaceful crew you claim to be, are you?"

"The Sebaceans, the ones who look like you, they were Peacekeepers, a lot of them. Soldiers?" She explained with another shrug.

"Exactly, you have a crew of soldiers…"

"Frell, don't you ever listen? Aeryn led the Peacekeepers during the last big war out here. Most of them think the stars shine out of her eema: Of course there's going to be loads of them on her crew! Frell, from what I hear, she had to turn hundreds of them away, or we wouldn't be able to move on Moya for ex-Peacekeepers!" Chiana blurted out. Interesting, thought Kovack. If he remembered correctly, the intelligence on Officer Sun gained during their visit to Earth had her as a low-ranking officer, the equivalent of a junior lieutenant. There had even been some speculation that she was a deserter or in some other way a fugitive. It seemed that she had risen rapidly in the Peacekeeper hierarchy since that visit. Such a rapid ascent spoke volumes about her abilities and, of course, the threat she might have posed. Not that it really mattered now, of course, seeing as it looked as though she had died on the X-469.

At that moment they were interrupted by Nybar hailing Chiana on the comms.

"Chiana, are you still with Captain Kovack?"

"I am," she confirmed.

"I'm sending two guards down to collect him and bring him to Command. Pilot has intercepted some more transmissions from Earth, which everyone needs to see, including him."

"Fine," Chiana responded. "You'd best eat up, then," she nodded to Kovack.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

It was late evening when Aeryn set the Prowler down in the Columbia countryside. It wasn't that the admittedly elderly Prowler was getting slow, rather that John and Aeryn had agreed it would be wise to wait for the cover of dusk and to fly at a speed which would not attract suspicion should they be casually observed. Travelling at sub-sonic speeds would help the ship to pass as something not particularly remarkable to any accidental observers.

Aeryn stepped down from the cockpit, closing it behind her, and looked around the small clearing in the thick wood where they had landed. She was at least grateful that this time they had been able to find a safe site to land and hide the Prowler which was much closer to their objective. A couple of arns walking should easily bring them to Fairfax.

John had been all for pressing on towards Fairfax that evening, but as they had come in to land Aeryn had insisted that they needed to rest before going on: It would do neither them nor the children any good if they made mistakes through exhaustion, she stated. Accepting her point, John toyed with the idea of booking them into somewhere like a hotel, using Olivia's credit card, but then had dismissed it when he remembered that their faces and descriptions had been broadcast on TV for anyone to see and that there was also probably an alert out to look for use of Livvy's card by now. Even if they could disguise their faces somehow, they didn't have enough cash left to go squandering on such extravagances. In the end, they had been lucky to notice a small cabin in the woods as they were bringing the Prowler in to land. As the last sight of the sun dropped below the horizon and the chill of dusk set in, they set off for what they hoped would be a short walk to an empty cabin.

Fortunately, they found the cabin before it grew fully dark, otherwise John feared they would have to spend the night sleeping rough. It would not be wise to have pressed on and risked getting lost or having an accident in the gloomy woods. From his time growing up, John knew well enough how dangerous it could be to try to travel in an unknown wood in pitch darkness.

After a quick reconnaissance to make sure the cabin was empty, they broke in and made themselves at home. John almost immediately checked the kitchen for food, which led him to reckon the place had been unused for some time, although he was able to concoct a basic meal from some out of date tinned food which had been left there. Their hunger sated, the couple settled down for the night on an old, lumpy bed beneath a scratchy wool blanket. John felt thoroughly at home. Aeryn tried to tell herself she had been in worse places, albeit none voluntarily.

Early the next morning they had a breakfast of cold tinned pork and beans, which Aeryn eyed warily even after John had shown they were safe by eating his share, whilst they held a short discussion of their tactics and strategy for the day. Then, breakfast over and with no other facilities tempting them to tarry in their accommodation, they set off to cover the last couple of miles to the rural compound where Fairfax was based.

"I know we ought to take our time checking this place out, honey," John said as they walked.

"But everyday we spend here increases our risk of being captured?" Aeryn agreed. "And it is another day that our offspring are at the mercy of their captors," she added the words she knew John was too fearful to voice.

John thought hard about that for a moment. Or rather, he tried not to think about it, running through all sorts of scenarios in his mind where the kids were being treated well, being fed ice cream and being allowed to play whatever the latest computer games were on Earth. His conscious mind refused to countenance the worst case scenarios that he already knew, from the bitter experience of the false earth, decades before, lurked in the depths of his sub-conscious.

They crested another slight rise, and a gated and fenced compound, covering, as best they could tell, several acres and containing at least one main building and a number of car parks, came into sight. It lay about half a motra in front of and below them, separated from them by a road which was clearly the main rout in and out of the site.

"This looks like the place," Aeryn remarked as John caught her up.

"Yup," John confirmed, taking a sip of water from a bottle.

"We should study the area, make plans," Aeryn continued, pulling her oculars out of her bag as she spoke.

"Can't argue with that, babe," he replied, as she passed him a second pair of oculars.

A half arn of observation revealed that the Fairfax compound was surrounded by security fences and cameras and would clearly have been a heavy challenge for even Aeryn to infiltrate. However, John and Aeryn had risen early and arrived in time to find a secluded hedge, set well back from the road, from where they could monitor the morning arrivals of the staff. It was Aeryn, using the oculars, who identified the cars belonging to Dr Katherine Flyte, Laszlo and Lee, amongst others, recognizing them from pictures Larry had found on the internet. And it was Aeryn who formulated the plan to seize one of the senior Fairfax employees.

Their chance to do so came sooner than they expected. It was barely 10 am, by local earth timing, when John spotted one of their targets leaving the compound.

"Aeryn, it's Flyte, her vehicle is moving towards the gate!" John commed Aeryn, who was now a motra up the road, looking for a good place to prepare an ambush.

"Frell! I'm not ready. I will have to improvise. Get here as soon as you can. Aeryn out," she replied. It had been less than an arn since they had had agreed on the plan to abduct a suitably senior employee as a means of gaining access to the site and since Aeryn had headed off to look for a suitable spot to do so.

Glancing quickly around to make sure that she was alone and that no one was coming, Aeryn assessed a nearby tree for potential to block the road. With a shot from her pulse pistol and a bit of a shove, she managed to get a large bough lying across the road. She paused to survey her handiwork for a microt, before the sound of a ground vehicle approaching shook her into taking cover, out of sight, beside the road.

"Damn!" Flyte hissed aloud, rounding a bend and seeing the branches across the road. She didn't fancy having to move so much wood, and going back and round the other way might make her late for her meeting. Maybe she could try and nudge it aside with her car? She drew closer and stopped, having second thoughts about pushing it out of the way with the vehicle or driving over it. She'd really have to get out and shift it, she decided, putting the car into park.

After maybe a minute of heaving and dragging, Flyte managed to get the branch out of the way and headed back to her car. As she got to the driver's door, a tall young, oddly familiar woman, dressed in black leather to match her tied-back black hair, appeared at the passenger side. The stranger impertinently hauled the door open with one hand, whilst fixing Flyte with a steely, grey-eyed stare.

Before Flyte had a chance to register or process why the raven-haired woman looked so familiar, or why she was opening the door to Flyte's car, the doctor found herself staring down the barrel of a heavy, black handgun of a thoroughly peculiar design.

"Get in, but keep your hands where I can see them," the woman in black ordered. Flyte gulped and complied, whilst her assailant slipped into the passenger seat beside her. The gun and the woman's gaze never faltered as she climbed inside the car.

"Who the hell…?" began Flyte, now seated. Her mind was beginning to catch up with the generality, if not the details, of what was happening, and she was starting to find the words to protest. "Look, just take what you want…"

"I intend to eventually, but I will need you to help me," The woman's accent and demeanor didn't seem to fit that of a petty criminal. She was more like an English version of one of the soldiers or security service agents she had met from time to time. Except that the woman was emanating hostility that, in Flyte's experience, no professional, dispassionate secret service agent ever would.

"My husband will be with us in a few microts, Dr Flyte, but you can pass the time by telling me what you know of the two children who are being held by your organization," For the first time, Flyte saw beyond the gun that was being pointed at her. The black hair, the aquiline features, the strange gun and stranger vocabulary all started to connect in her mind. The shoe dropped.

"Oh shit," breathed Flyte. The dark-haired woman smiled unsympathetically.

"Ah, so do you realize who I am and what I am talking about?" It was not really a question, but Flyte nodded anyway, slowly and with a great deal of trepidation. "Good. That will save us a long, tedious introduction."

At that moment the back door of the car opened and an out-of-breath man, also dressed from head to toe in black leather, climbed into the car.

"Hi honey," he greeted the dark haired woman. "You," he nodded to Flyte, fixing her with an unfriendly stare, "Drive, and no funny business."

"Drive? Where?" Flyte asked, not entirely unreasonably.

"Where were you going?" the man, Crichton she presumed, asked in return.

"A… a.. m..meeting. Washington."

"Fine, then we have plenty of time before you'll be missed. How close is your house?" Crichton continued.

"20, 30 minutes….?"

"Then drive to your home." Commanded Aeryn Sun. Flyte seemed uncertain and did nothing for a few microts.

"You do know how to drive home?" the man prompted Flyte. Sarcasm and menace was dripping from his voice. She was now sure he was Crichton, as she recognized him from the pictures in the files at Fairfax. These were the parents of the children her team was working on. Shit! She thought to herself. How on earth was she going to get out of this predicament? She swallowed hard, nodded, and put the car into drive.

Twenty minutes later, they were making their way to Flyte's door, between the low shrubs which she had growing out front. Aeryn was half a step behind Flyte, holding her elbow in a vice-like grip, whilst John was just a few steps behind. Once through the front door, they marched Flyte into the kitchen of the well appointed and spacious house.

"You. Sit." Aeryn Sun ordered, with one strong hand on Flyte's shoulder forcing the physically unimposing doctor down onto a stool at the kitchen counter. Aeryn moved round and sat down across from her. She silently stared at Flyte with a gaze which the Earth woman found too implacably terrifying to return.

"I.. I'm sorry. Y.. you have to understand, I didn't have anything to do with taking your kids. I was only…" Flyte stammered, terrified as to what retribution they might have in mind to visit upon her.

"Shut the frell up! Before you say something really stupid!" Snapped Crichton, pausing only briefly in his ransacking of her kitchen cupboards and drawers.

Flyte was quite put out: The sentiment she had been trying to vocalize was heartfelt. She hadn't taken this job with the thought that she might actually be required to hurt or kill someone. Somewhere along the way, a line had been crossed, but she couldn't seem to remember when or where. Before anyone else spoke, Crichton found what he was looking for: some paper and pens. He tossed them onto the counter between the women.

Flyte looked quizzically at the stationary and then up at John.

Without a word of warning, Aeryn drew Flyte's attention back to what was immediately in front of her by abruptly slamming a vicious-looking two-bladed commando knife into the counter top. Flyte looked at the weapon and swallowed hard. So this was it, the doctor thought. Aeryn leaned in and fixed Flyte with a glare which Flyte was too terrified to break.

"You," Aeryn instructed her. "Are going to draw me some maps of the compound, showing where my children are being held, the guard positions and so forth. Then you are going to tell me everything you can about security at the compound." Flyte nodded slowly. "And my husband is going to find us something to eat and make some coffee. Do what I say, and I won't make you drink any," she finished, seemingly with the faintest possible lopsided grin. Aeryn's half smile was probably the most disconcerting thing Flyte had encountered all morning.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Larry had stopped demanding to see his lawyer after about the fourth or fifth time that the same request had been ignored by his captors. The anonymous men in black suits who had taken him from his home and into custody certainly didn't seem interested in calling him a lawyer, or in delaying their interrogation until they did. After a few fruitless hours, comprising of a little intermittent questioning interspersed with a lot of waiting around, they had taken him to a featureless cell and left him there, alone, for what seemed like several more hours. He was fairly certain a night had passed, but with no frame of reference, it was difficult to tell for sure.

Larry was a law-abiding, middle-class man, not used to any sort of questioning by law enforcement or security agents, far less to being questioned by any as unrelentingly serious and unfriendly as these Men In Black. Neither was he used to being deprived of all contact with the outside world, including any measure of the passage of time. As a consequence, he was now quite rattled. By the time that two of his captors came to collect him from his cell he was verging on being totally freaked out.

A stocky, young agent with painfully short blonde hair pushed Larry down onto a Spartan wooden chair, which matched the rest of the interrogation room in it's simplicity. His older, equally stocky but nearly-bald colleague sat across a bare table, flicking, with feigned disinterest, through a sheaf of papers in a manila cardboard folder.

"Sooo, Mr. Neville," the seated agent drawled, not even bothering to look up, after a suitably unsettling length of time had passed. "Regardless of your limited cooperation to date, we have established that you and your wife have recently been harbouring known fugitives…" He appeared to read from one paper, tracing words with one finger and arching an eyebrow. "Who are a threat to national security." He flicked through some more papers and sighed, apparently bored by the whole business.

"Th… that's not true!" Larry protested weakly. "Only visitors we've had in the last week were my brother-in-law and his wife," Larry protested. Keep to the truth, he thought: these people would be trained to tell if he was lying. He would have got up to protest his innocence had Agent Blonde not laid a heavy hand on his shoulder to encourage him to remain seated. Larry wilted under the encouragement.

Agent Bald raised an eye and accompanying eyebrow towards Larry. "Like I said. Known fugitives." He let that remark sink in for a few seconds before continuing. He tossed all the papers except one onto the table between them. He traced some words on the page with a finger as he continued. "We also know that these fugitives claim to be looking for their children. And that your wife was detained while physically aiding these fugitives to avoid capture by law enforcement agents." Agent Bald looked up and smiled at Larry. It was not a pleasant smile. "We have also established that neither you nor your wife have been particularly cooperative thus far in answering our questions…"

"Now hang on just a moment…..!" Larry spluttered. "What about our rights…?"

Agent Bald sighed and tossed the last piece of paper onto the table. "Mr. Neville. This is a matter of National Security. There are laws which come into play in such circumstances which balance your MIRANDA rights against the interests of our whole Country. Rest assured, we've passed that balance point." Larry coughed and went pale. Agent Bald continued. "Earth is under threat from violent, dangerous aliens. I'm sure you heard the terrible news about our spaceship, before we took you into custody? So perhaps you'd consider telling us something we don't already know? If it's worthwhile information, it might even help to mitigate the consequences you and your wife are already facing for your actions….."

Larry was about to speak when there was a knock on the door. Agent Blonde went over and opened it, spoke briefly to another black-suited man, then beckoned Agent Bald across. The three of them muttered darkly for a few seconds, then they stepped out, leaving Larry nervous and alone. He fidgeted slightly in his chair and looked around him, a fruitless exercise, as there was nothing in the room worth looking at.

Agent Bald and Agent Blonde stepped back in and resumed their previous positions, in front of and behind him.

"Well, Mr. Neville, it seems that our colleagues have found some interesting answers as to where the fugitives may be headed on the computer we took from your home. The bar for what constitutes useful information you might give us has just gotten considerably higher.…."

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Later that morning, with John hiding underneath the luggage cover of Flyte's station wagon, and Aeryn concealed beneath a blanket on the backseat, Flyte set off, driving back towards the Fairfax compound.

"Just remember: Keep to the plan and no one needs to get hurt. We only want our offspring back," Aeryn warned Dr Flyte as she peered out from under the blanket.

"Look, I've told you, I want to help, this has gone too far," Flyte protested.

"Mmm hmm,"Aeryn perhaps half-conceded. Flyte might be speaking the truth. It really didn't matter, as they had no reason to trust her any more than they were already.

John's response was even more skeptical. "Yeah, right." He muttered from the trunk of the station wagon.

Flyte tried to let the hostility wash over her, to concentrate on the moment, concentrate on driving to the compound. Turn left. Drive on about a mile and a half, woods to the left, field to the right, turn right, into the quiet, wooded lane where Sun had ambushed her. Drive on a… WHAT THE HECK…..!

The large, black truck came as if from nowhere, barreling out of a concealed side turning. The truck T-boned the side of the station wagon, pushing the lighter vehicle half into the ditch on the other side of the road. The inside of the car filled with ballooning airbags in the blink of an eye, restricting movement and vision. A horn blared and people began shouting outside of the car. All was commotion.

"John! John!" Flyte heard the alien woman screaming from beneath the blanket, although, over the roar of engines and a blaring horn, she couldn't hear a reply from the ex-astronaut.

Then, somehow, Sun had gotten herself out from under the blanket and under the airbags and was kicking open the rear door of the car, on the far side from the impact. Even as Aeryn climbed out of the wreck, other figures were emerging from bushes and ditches. They were black-clad and helmeted, bodies thickened by armour, their arms laden with weapons. As the newcomers fluttered around the car and truck, Flyte could see Aeryn Sun stagger to her feet and raise her gun. As Aeryn did so, flashes of electrical charges and trails of wires went off all around her. Aeryn dropped to her knees, her weapon fell from her limp fingers and then she toppled forwards into the ditch.


	13. Chapter 12

Sikozu, Nybar and Kovack, accompanied by two ex-Peacekeeper guards, strode down one of Moya's golden, ribbed corridors towards one of the Leviathan's docking bays. All aboard the ship, both human and Moyan, had been shocked by the transmissions that Pilot had picked up from Earth, indicating that the X-469 had been destroyed and all aboard killed. They had been equally surprised to learn that unidentified aliens had been implicated as the culprits in the ships destruction. Then they had detected a transmission indicating that the authorities were looking for John and Aeryn. However, the quality and quantity of signals reaching Moya through the wormhole were extremely limited. Transmissions were sporadic and garbled through excessive radio interference. As a consequence, Nybar and Sikozu had agreed a plan to investigate further.

"What we are going to do," Sikozu explained for the third time, her voice a mix of irritation and exasperation, "Is take a transport pod through the wormhole, find out what is going on, what has happened to our friends and to explain to those deficient humans you work for exactly why they should hand over Aeryn and John's children to us."

"Who're you calling deficient?" Kovack snapped back, finding her lecturing manner more than a little irritating, "And why just a transport pod?"

Sikozu and Nybar exchanged a short, meaningful glance as the small group paused before the docking bay door. There was no way in hezmanna that they were going to tell the human captain that Peacekeeper ships could not negotiate wormholes without the unfortunate side-effect of liquefying the occupants. That was a strategic weakness they would rather keep unknown at this point. Neither were they going to explain Moya's reluctance to travel through wormholes. Or, for that matter, their own quite reasonable fears that hostile aliens might just already be lurking on the other side. An unarmed transport pod was the only option they had, without risking Moya, so they were both trying not to think about that last point.

Nybar actuated a mechanism and the ovoid door swung open along its vertical axis. The former Peacekeper motioned that Kovack should step through the larger of the two openings this created.

"That is none of your concern," Nybar replied, giving the human a gentle push into the chamber beyond.

"Well, it is if you want me to come along," Kovack returned, stepping through into the docking bay. He had never been in the bay before, and paused for a moment, taking in the variety of craft within: There were two small, sleek craft, which resembled Earth fighter jets: Those would be Prowlers, he remembered from reports of the Moyans' previous visit to Earth. Then there was a larger, boxy craft, clearly of similar provenance to the Prowlers, but which he did not know the designation for. He wondered why they were not taking one of those larger, military ships, but clearly his companions were not going to tell him. Between the two Prowlers sat a more organic, squat, cylindrical craft, which he took to be the transport pod, not least because Sikozu was now indicating that he should move towards it. "And I won't be able to fly your craft, anyway." Kovack remarked.

"That is not what we want you for," Nybar snapped back.

"I'll be flying." Sikozu said pointedly. "It won't be the first time I've flown a pod down a wormhole. We're still picking up the location beacon from Aeryn's Prowler, so I don't anticipate having any difficulty…" Sikozu was curious as to why the beacon on the Prowler was still functioning, as logically it should have been destroyed in the explosion on the X-469. Perhaps the Prowler had not been aboard at the time? If so, then perhaps Aeryn or John were still alive? That hope was certainly supported by the latest transmissions they had picked up, the ones indicating that Aeryn and john were being sought by law enforcement agencies on Earth. She had discussed this with Nybar and some of the others aboard Moya, but, as they could not raise John or Aeryn on any comms channel, they did not know what to conclude. Perhaps they would find answers on the other side of the wormhole? Sikozu hoped so, as she regarded Aeryn as one of her closest, if not her closest friend, and fervently hoped that she had somehow survived the explosion. The latest transmissions and the fact that the Prowler's beacon was still functional were almost the only crumbs of hope they had right now, and Sikozu clung to them.

"Then what am I coming for?" Kovack repeated, as the group boarded the pod, which, Kovack noted, had obviously been built in the same style as Moya.

Sikozu settled herself in one of the two, clamshell like chairs which Kovack took to be pilot seats. Pulling what seemed to be a control arm across her lap, she smiled sweetly at the human, answering, "Let's just say we're taking you as an advisor." Then the smile faded a few notches. "As well as proof of what has really been going on. Pilot, we are prepared for departure."

Kovack watched the pod's pilot intently, trying to forget the two Peacekeeper guards who were seated near to him, their unholstered side arms pointed his way. Sikozu expertly flew the pod out of the docking bay and down the long passage, which lead out into space. Soon the pod was several kilometers away from the larger ship and approaching the wormhole, which had remained open ever since Moya's arrival in this system. Sikozu opened a channel to the Pilot once again.

"Pilot, is wormhole stability sufficient for us to safely traverse?"

"As far as Moya and I can determine…. Good luck to you all," Pilot's disembodied voice replied.

"Then I suggest everyone aboard straps themselves in securely," Sikozu remarked, working some switches on her controls. Waiting only long enough for her companions to secure themselves as best they could, Sikozu flicked on some sort of guidance system, causing a holographic display to project in front of her. Pushing the pod's control stalk forwards and downwards, she took them into the wormhole.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

John awoke with a headache the likes of which he hadn't suffered since his last frat party, some decades previously. Then pain started to register from across his anatomy. Make that more like a headache unlike any since that motorbike accident he'd had when he was a kid. Road! Accident! Earth! Aeryn! FRELL! His mind cycled in quick succession, as the events preceding his lapse into unconsciousness came back to him.

It was several microts before he registered that he was strapped to some sort of bed and that he was not alone. Masked medical technicians fluttered around him. One leaned over his head, pulled his eyelids apart and shone a penlight in his eyes. John protested and the technician looked up at one of the other people present.

"He's awake," the masked face above him announced.

"Excellent," replied a woman, who, unlike all the others, was not dressed in surgical gown or mask. She had just walked across the room to stand beside John's head. "I presume that means that there was no serious brain damage and thus we can proceed?"

The closest masked face nodded sharply in the affirmative.

John found himself, not for the first time in recent days, wishing that he and his family were safely back home on Moya rather than, apparently, stuck in one of his worst nightmares. A microt or two passed. He was still on this crazy planet. Frell: Nothing to do but engage with what his senses were telling him, be it reality or not.

"What do you want from me and my family?" John demanded. The woman seemed to consider this for a few microts.

"You know, I'm really not sure yet," the woman responded once she had considered the matter. "When we think of something, maybe we'll let you know. Prep him, I'm going to check on the other new subject."

The woman turned and walked smartly to the door, the sound of her clicking heels on the hard floor vanishing unnaturally quickly to John's ears as some new drug was pumped into his system. By the time the sound of the door shutting cracked across the room, John was already unconscious again.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

The buzzer went on Beth Laszlo's office desk. She tapped the intercom.

"Senator Mitchell and General MacCarthy have both just arrived, ma'am," came the disembodied voice from site security. They had both immediately responded to the summons from Fairfax, indicating that Crichton and Sun had been captured. They had even overcome their mutual dislike enough to share the same company helicopter from Washington. TR Holt was currently still in Florida, chasing the aliens there. Kim Lee was also in Florida, trying to ensure that the civil and military authorities involved in their programme stayed on side. For her part, Laszlo was delighted that she alone now held the reigns of power in Columbia and was determined to make the most of it.

"Excellent, bring them to my office straight away," Laszlo replied before returning to inspecting the contents of Aeryn Sun's bag. They had recovered a surprising number and variety of weapons from the alien's bag and a further selection concealed about her person. These had now been laid out on the conference table in Laszlo's office. On a smaller side table they had placed the items which had been taken from Crichton. Looking at the selection and the contrast between what had been taken from the two prisoners, Laszlo could now well believe that, despite her appearance, the alien woman was some sort of super-soldier. It certainly seemed they had been quite fortunate to have apprehended her without casualties. She would have to remind everyone involved with the alien to take extra care and not make any assumptions which could comprise security.

Some things from the haul Laszlo recognized: A selection of guns, big and small, some combat knives, and some sort of headset: A matching headset had been retrieved from Crichton. She would have to prioritize those headsets with the electronics division, they could be most profitable. There were also other, as yet unidentified items that she would have to get her scientists and engineers to look at more closely, although she was fairly sure that some were spare cartridges for the weapons, and others were explosive charges of some sort. Then there a few incongruous items: Crichton's sister's credit card. They would have to think about the implications of that when Holt arrived. A small amount of cash. Some chocolate bars. And, most oddly, a CD of Tom Jones' Greatest Hits. Laszlo frowned and shook her head at that one. Maybe there was some secret, alien software or message hidden on it. She would have to get the computer techs to look into that. She'd have to warn them to be extra careful, though: the CD's contents could well be highly dangerous to the unprepared.

Laszlo was shaken from her inspection of the haul by the intercom bleeping, announcing Mitchell and MacCarthy's arrival. She pressed a button, bleeping back on the intercom. "Show them right in."

As they entered, Laszlo could see that the two men were both drawn to the tables of weapons. General MacCarthy, she noted, walked straight up to the larger haul, barely acknowledging her presence as he entered.

"Interesting, aren't they?" Laszlo asked. Seeing MacCarthy reach out towards some item she quickly added, "Ahem, I don't recommend you touch anything. Not until we've had it all thoroughly checked over."

"Tom Jones' Greatest Hits?" frowned Mitchell, who had now joined them.

"That especially." Laszlo warned. Mitchell raised an eyebrow and shrugged, accepting her advice.

"I can't see what use they are going to be to us: These two are trained, hardened adults. They're not going to tell us anything we don't already know. Especially under the circumstances," MacCarthy expounded.

"I agree. They are more of a liability than an asset," Mitchell pointed out.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," countered Laszlo. "My medical teams are currently finding out whatever they can about the female alien, without opening her up, that is. Once that is done, in a day or two, keeping her alive for the next stage doesn't really matter. So yes, I agree, they're a liability so long as we keep them here, alive. The risk of exposure is too great."

"Then we should get rid of them, as quickly as possible. There's nothing to be gained in keeping them alive," Mitchell remarked.

"Perhaps," Laszlo half-conceded. "But they could be used to help illustrate our agenda, strengthen our hand. Then we can still learn just as much from the alien's body."

"What do you mean? What do you have in mind?" asked MacCarthy. Mitchell stared at his rival and, for once, nodded in agreement. Laszlo frowned, wondering which words to use next.

"Look at all these alien weapons. Wouldn't you say it's possible that Crichton and his alien accomplices were planning some sort of atrocity here on Earth," Laszlo suggested. "After all, why else would they have so many weapons?"

"They were? What…?" asked MacCarthy, either not catching on or playing the fool. Mitchell smiled slightly, evidently understanding where Laszlo's thought processes were leading.

"Something which the public would find outrageous," Mitchell suggested, quirking an eyebrow.

Laszlo nodded, with the faintest hint of a smile. "But which wouldn't be so high profile that our people couldn't control the entire situation, without other agencies being there to screw things up."

MacCarthy nodded. "I'm thinking they're bound to be found out and killed just in the nick of time, am I right?" Laszlo smiled that he seemed now to be catching on and playing along.

"Most certainly," she replied.

"Where and when?" asked Mitchell, getting to the point.

"Here would be perfect, we have control," suggested Laszlo.

"No, no, it would have to be somewhere public enough for witnesses. That way there's no likelihood of public sympathy," Mitchell put in. "In fact, it would be nice if some of it could be captured on film. By someone the public would trust, of course."

"But somewhere low-security enough that we would still have full control, no chance of anyone interfering," put in MacCarthy. Laszlo and Mitchell both nodded assent.

"We'll keep back the young girl, she's easier to control than the others, and we should have less trouble keeping her out of the public eye," Laszlo stated. The other two pondered this for a moment, trying to decide if this was a good idea or one that would fatally compromise the rest of their plan.

"She's only a child," Laszlo explained, seeing their uncertainty and deciding they would need more persuading to come round to her point of view.

"This is not the time to be squeamish or sentimental," Mitchell, scolded. Laszlo gave a toothy smile, as if to show that she was anything but.

"No no, you misunderstand," she replied. "People would be less likely to believe she's part of a terrorist cell, plus we risk losing the sympathy factor." That last point was enough for Mitchell, at least, who now nodded his assent. Seeing the prevailing wind, MacCarthy shrugged.

"We need to talk to Holt, get something planned," Mitchell, voiced all their thoughts.

"He'll be on his way back from Florida soon. I'll schedule a meeting," Laszlo picked up her phone and dialed. "While he's making arrangements, we can finish our tests on the alien and the boy."

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

The ten minutes since Moya's transport pod had emerged from the wormhole had been packed with surprises for all those aboard.

The first surprise, although only to Sikozu as only she truly understood that there were other possibilities, was that they actually did seem to have made it to Earth. Better yet, it was the right Earth in the right time period, at least as far as she could tell. Surprise had been more widespread amongst the pod's occupants when they discovered that Aeryn's Prowler's beacon was now located on the planet surface, close to the North American Eastern seaboard, a short distance from the capital city. Then had come the broadcasts from the planet, now uninterrupted and interference-free, which seemed to imply that Aeryn and John had somehow survived the explosion of the X-469. However, the couple now appeared to be fugitives, the subject of a manhunt down below. That part was, in its way, at least encouraging news, the first they had had for some time, Sikozu reflected.

The last surprise, although it only counted as such to Kovack, was the motley collection of electronics which Sikozu had proudly pulled from storage at the back of the pod. She had then even more proudly announced it to be a two way radio communication system, compatible with Earth technology, that she, Crichton and Deke had made a couple of cycles ago as some sort of science project. Actually, it was not quite true that that was the biggest surprise. The biggest surprise for Kovack was that, when Sikozu turned it on and dialed in the frequency for Florida Space Command, which he had supplied, the jumble of components crackled into life.

"Hello," opened Sikozu in perfect English, with a very pleased-with-herself smile.

"Hello? Please identify yourself…. And get off the air. This is a restricted frequency," said an English speaking male voice with unconcealed irritation.

"Is that Florida Space Command?" Sikozu replied breezily. She was supremely confident that she should not, in fact, be getting off this frequency. She took the grunted reply from the device as confirmation that she was speaking to the right people.

"If so, then I expect you should remember me from my last visit to your planet. I am Sikozu Svala Shanti Sugaysi Shanu of the Leviathan Moya." Nybar grunted to indicate he was also present on the call.

"Ummm. Please can you repeat that?" came the disembodied voice again. Sikozu ignored the request and continued with her own agenda.

"We understand that the Sun-Crichton family are currently guests on your delightful planet, either as prisoners or fugitives. We know how modest they would be about claiming their diplomatic privileges, but I think that we are past the point where such modesty would be useful. So I think you should know that Captain Sun-Crichton and her family are honorary members of the Royal house of Hyneria. Indeed, their offspring are the Dominar's God-Children."

"What the hell are you going on about?" Interrupted the voice from the planet.

"I know how much your planet must desire to have beneficial relations with the major powers out in your galaxy. I also know from my time on Earth, and from my conversations with Captain Kovack…. Say hello, Captain…."

"Um, hello…" Kovack contributed, before Nybar indicated with a raised finger that he should fall silent again.

"… that you haven't really been able to familiarize yourself with galactic laws and norms of behaviour."

"Kovack, is that you, can you confirm please?" the Earth-bound voice returned with some excitement. Nybar nodded to indicate that he should reply.

"I can indeed. I can also confirm that most of the X-469's crew were aboard Moya when the X-469 exploded, and that I, personally, do not believe that these aliens deliberately played any part in its destruction," Kovack rushed out, knowing that he would be ordered into silence again soon.

Sikozu and Nybar both nodded in satisfaction at that contribution. Sikozu continued, cutting across the slightly confused protests now coming from the planet.

"And now, perhaps, for your safety, I ought also familiarize you with paragraph 89 of the Quajaga Peace Treaty?"

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about…? Put Captain Kovack back on!"

"Listen and pay attention!" Sikozu lectured sternly. "You will understand the treaty is all very wordy. And, of course, not in English. But, to translate and summarize: Under the treaty, signed between Peacekeeper High Command and the Scarran Empire, John Crichton, Aeryn Sun and their offspring are afforded special protection and privileges: Both signatories to the treaty agreed to protect them against any acts of violence, coercion and so forth using any force necessary. Should any such acts be committed against them, Peacekeeper and Scarran forces are authorized to take extreme retributive actions."

There was silence for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, could you repeat….?"

"I said, under the terms of the Quajaga Peace Treaty, both Peacekeeper High Command and the Scarran Empire are obliged and authorized to use any force necessary to protect John, Aeryn and their children and to take any retribution they see fit if they are attacked," Sikozu reiterated with a heartfelt sigh. There was another short silence. These humans really where very slow on the uptake.

"You wouldn't…."

"No indeed, I wouldn't," Sikozu confirmed. "Not personally. But, being a Kalish, I would caution you to consider what actions the Scarran empire might take, especially in view of their desire to find Earth and exploit its botanical resources."

"Please can you…?" the voice began again, but Sikozu was in no mood for a long conversation.

"So, shall we expect the Sun-Crichtons to be aboard Moya within three solar days? That seems more than reasonable." Sikozu pressed on.

There was a growing commotion at the other end of the radio.

"…orders..! Cut the transmission!" A voice ordered, almost out of earshot to those on the pod. Without further warning, the sound of voices in the command center was replaced with static.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Colonel Sorenson rushed onto the bridge of the X-473 as best he could, considering they were in zero-gravity. As he did so, he called out to Lieutenant Blaine, the most senior, and indeed only officer currently present.

"Louis, bring propulsion, guidance and weapons systems on line…Now!"

"Sir!" Blaine snapped back, already working on the banks of switches in front of him, powering up the main engines and the primary and secondary weapons systems.

Sorenson slipped into the captain's seat beside Blaine and flicked open the ship-board general address system. "All hands, battle stations, now. This is not a drill!" he barked, before snapping the comms off again. Everyone! Yeah, right, he reflected. The X-473 was between missions, awaiting essential resupply and several minor repairs, with just a skeleton crew aboard. However, the urgent, encrypted message the Colonel had just received from General MacArthur had made it perfectly clear that Sorenson would just have to do the best he could with what he had. Anyway, it should not be a long mission: MacArthur had informed him that an alien ship, allied with the group who had destroyed the X-469 and murdered her crew, had been detected in Earth orbit. Sorenson and his crew were to move to intercept and destroy the aliens. Revenging the X-469's crew wasn't something that the Colonel had any trouble with: No trouble at all, he concluded, as he secured the seat's harness.

Now safely strapped in and nearly all necessary orders issued to get the ship underway, Sorenson accessed the guidance system. The computer had already received the coordinates, on the up-link with Earth control, that they needed to locate the alien craft and plot an intercept course.

"Course laid in, Lieutenant Blaine," Sorenson barked. Just then Lieutenant Brockman entered. Sorenson raised his voice to be sure that Brockman would hear. "Brock, take weapons. Gentlemen, we're ordered to intercept and eliminate an alien craft which has just entered orbit."

"Are they the same ones who…?" Brockman began. He didn't need to finish the question.

"Certainly are!" Sorenson replied.

"Sir!" Brockman and Blaine barked back enthusiastically.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

"Sensors show that there is a ship approaching us from below," Sikozu remarked. "175 motras, rendezvous in 30 microts," she continued, having rechecked her readouts.

"Presumably an Earth ship?" Nybar asked.

"It doesn't have one of our beacons…" Sikozu replied, checking a couple more readouts.

"If they've responded so quickly to our presence, then it must be the X-473," Kovack remarked. There was no other ship with such maneuverability and speed likely to be in orbit.

"The second ship like yours?" Nybar asked. Kovack nodded agreement.

Sikozu and Nybar's eyes met. They both had the same thought at the same time: Not only had Kovack's ship had been heavily armed, the humans were blaming them for it's destruction. Nybar's military training and hard won experience was quicker than Sikozu's bioloid speed, tempered as it was by her still sometimes child-like innocence. Nybar leant across Sikozu and grabbed and twisted the pod's control column, sending the pod spiraling randomly on a new course and throwing the rest of it's occupants tumbling around like pop-corn in a microwave.

The pulse from the X-473's main armament missed the transport pod by little more than an arm's length, the arc of plasma clearly visible through the pod's forward view port.

Sikozu stared at the plasma arc in near disbelief, frozen into inaction for a couple of precious microts.

"Sikozu, get us to the wormhole, NOW!" Nybar ordered, throwing himself into the co-pilot's seat and strapping himself in.

Sikozu didn't waste further time on an answer: She didn't have to. Her actions spoke for her, as she pushed the pod's engine to maximum and began making for the wormhole in a jagged zig-zag.

"How long till they can fire that weapon again?" Nybar shouted at Kovack.

"About 60 seconds…"

"And how long till we get to the wormhole?" Nybar barked at Sikozu, who, he noted, had heard that they had 60 seconds and had thus already stopped evasive maneuvers and was making straight for the swirling blue maw.

"About 40 microts – seconds!" Sikozu snapped back, just as the pod shook from some sort of impact, the rear erupting in sparks. "Frell! They've secondary weapons! Why the frell didn't you say they had secondary weapons?" Sikozu shouted as another jolt shook the pod. More sparks flew all around them and a jet of steam billowed from a broken conduit.

"Well, we know now!" Nybar shouted back.

Sikozu checked on another readout, which had given her a slither of good news. "But, on the positive…. The force of those impacts has increased our speed, which means we will reach the wormhole 10 microts sooner!"

Seconds later, trailing vapour and minor debris, the damaged transport pod plunged into the swirling blue mouth of the wormhole. Sikozu clutched at the control arm, trying to safely fly the yawing pod through the whirling eddies of space-time and successfully navigate their way back to Moya. Then, another shot from the pursuing Earth ship hit the pod, nearly wrenching the control column from her hands and deflecting their course towards the walls of the wormhole.

"Hang on!" shouted Sikozu as the side of the wormhole seemed to rear up angrily towards them.


	14. Chapter 13

The transport pod tore out of the entrance to the wormhole at the highest velocity that Sikozu dared demand of it. The pod was followed mere microts later by the pursuing X-473. The Earth ship was about 50 times the mass of the tiny pod and bore down on its wounded prey like a giant house cat chasing a mouse, ready to finish it off. However, the pilot of the Earth ship was immediately distracted by the even larger bulk of Moya, which waited close to the wormhole, ready to swallow the pod.

The gunner of the X-473 could not help but see Moya as soon as they cleared the wormhole. The Leviathan presented an undoubtedly more attractive target and he immediately set to re-aiming his weapons. Besides, within seconds the pod was arcing behind the larger craft, diving through its tails, presenting the pod as a much more difficult target relative to its mother ship.

Like all on the X-473's bridge, the gunner was so fixated with first the pod and then the Leviathan that he entirely missed the far more important object rapidly approaching from the empty space behind the maw of the wormhole. The Earth ship fired its secondary weapon once, striking Moya on one of her long tails.

The X-473 never managed a second shot: The earth ship shook, its hull screaming as something, perhaps several somethings, struck it with incredible force and accuracy. Engines, electrics, and weapons all immediately went off line. The battered hulk of the X-473 began to tumble end over end, out of control, venting gas and debris into space. Sorenson breathed a sigh of relief that they did not seem to have suffered a major hull breach. It was a small mercy.

"What the hell was that? How long till…?" he began, but the question died on his lips as a new sight, one like no other he had ever seen, came into view through the front screen of the X-473's bridge. Bearing down on them was another ship, and it was huge. It looked like a metallic brick in space, maybe a couple of miles long, with an enormous hoop extending amidships. A flotilla of smaller ships poured from it, towards the X-473, like a swarm of angry bees.

As the initial shock passed, Sorenson recognized the ship from the database downloaded a few years before from the alien derelict: It was a Peacekeeper Command Carrier. And that meant that they were hopelessly outclassed. Their only hope now was that the Command carrier would stop firing on them and deign to take them prisoner.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Sikozu breathed a huge sigh of relief as she set the transport pod down safely in one of Moya's docking bays.

"Was all that true? What you said back there" Kovack asked her as they unfastened their restraints. Sikozu frowned in incomprehension and was about to make a remark about yet another impossible human when Kovack explained. "About Crichton and his family being under all that protection from people out here?"

"Oh that!" Sikozu replied, standing and checking around herself that she had everything which belonged to her. "Of course it was," she added, affronted at the mere suggestion that she might have made it all up.

At that moment, Pilot's voice came over the pod's comms. "Sikozu, Lieutenant Nybar, I have just had word from Commandant Zobrek on the Peacekeeper command carrier. Clow is coming across with some of her senior officers. She wishes urgently to discuss the situation with you."

"You'll be able to ask the Peacekeepers yourself in a while, if you don't believe me," Sikozu said off-handedly to Kovack whilst Nybar confirmed the details with Pilot.

However, instead of getting to meet the Peacekeepers, Kovack found himself escorted back to his cell, whilst Nybar and Sikozu went off to greet the Commandant. After what seemed like about an hour alone to consider the events of the day, a pair of Moya's ex-Peacekeeper crew appeared at Kovack's cell door and indicated that he should come with them.

As he entered the central chamber, Kovack quickly took in that it already contained Sikozu, Nybar and a number of new Sebaceans, wearing what he took to be formal Peacekeeper uniforms, rather than the informal collections of civilian and military clothing favoured amongst many of Moya's crew. He was ordered to sit, and Nybar introduced him to their leader, a woman he called Commandant Clow Zobrek. Kovack noted that he did not introduce any of the other Peacekeeper officers present.

"Your leaders seem unwilling to accept our word on the situation regarding Commandant Sun and her family," Zobrek said to Kovack, after the pleasantries, such as they were, had been concluded. "You, on the other hand, have only to look out of the window to see my Command Carrier and the danger posed to your planet if your people continue to attack our ships and hold our people."

"Whatever my views may or may not be, I don't see that they are entirely relevant," retorted Kovack.

"I will leave that point for you to consider. However, Moya and Lieutenant Nybar have agreed to convey a Peacekeeper military delegation through the wormhole to your planet," Zobrek continued. "They will be sufficiently resourced both to defend themselves and to be persuasive in ensuring that our people are returned." Kovack frowned. This did not sound good, but he could not yet understand why she was telling him this. "Purely in the interests of peace and goodwill towards your people, we have decided not to take a larger force, such as the Command Carrier, through the wormhole at this time," Zobrek continued. She was well aware that they could not safely do so, but also suspected that Kovack probably did not know that, so had elected to present this decision to him as something which might work in the Moyans' and Peacekeepers' favour rather than against them.

Kovack considered this new development for as long as he dared. It seemed the stakes were steadily being ramped up, and with both the X-469 and X-473 now gone, Earth had very little left in the way of space-faring defenses. For the sake of everyone, it seemed, he needed to do what he could to help defuse the situation.

"I'm not making any promises," he said, slowly and cautiously, "but I'd like to come along and try to help sort out our… misunderstandings." His heart sank even as he said it, realizing he was probably overstepping the line of what might be seen, by those back on Earth, as acceptable. He needed someone to bounce his thoughts off of, to get some clarity before he got in any deeper. A thought occurred to him as to how he might persuade his captors to let him do so. "I'd also like to talk to my people: It looks like you might need more than just my help, so …"

Zobrek, her face still set in a mask, nodded assent, and Nybar called two of the Moyan crew across. After they had received their instructions, Kovack found himself on his way towards the cells where the rest of his people were being held. As they walked, Kovack could already see the evidence of the Peacekeeper troops massing on Moya as he passed knots of them in the previously uncrowded corridors of the enormous vessel. It was clear they were not wasting any time in getting ready to travel to Earth.

Within arns, three full companies of Peacekeeper commandos and four Black Ghost squads, complete with Marauders and Prowlers, all under the personal command of Commandant Zobrek, had transferred to Moya from the command carrier.

Nybar glanced around Moya's command. He couldn't remember the chamber to have been so crowded since the days of the Kkore war. In addition to her normal, full command crew and the human Kovack, Zorbek and her personal retinue had crowded into the chamber, nearly doubling the numbers present.

"Lieutenant Nybar, Moya and I are ready to enter the wormhole now," Pilot confirmed from the clamshell. Nybar looked to Zobrek, who nodded her assent, before turning to Sikozu, who stood by Moya's manual flight controls.

"Take us through Sikozu," Nybar ordered. She nodded and secured her grip on the tiny joystick, before edging Moya forwards and downwards.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Aeryn huddled in the corner of her small, nearly bare cell. It was not that she felt or intended to act in any way submissive to her captors. However, her arms were restrained by a straightjacket and her ankles joined by a short shackle, all of which gave her little choice in her movements. In the few short hours that she had been conscious since being captured the guards and any others who had come to see her had found her far too dangerous to be allowed more physical freedom. Hence, after a short struggle and, aided by a brief period when they had chemically sedated her, they had fitted her with the jacket and shackles.

She had been left alone for a couple of arns now, and was quite surprised when Dr Katherine Flyte entered the cell alone. Aeryn couldn't help but observe that the doctor seemed to be acting furtively, as though harbouring some guilty secret she was afraid might be discovered. The doctor crouched next to Aeryn and, having swiftly glanced around the small bare cell, whispered urgently to her.

"I didn't mean any of this to happen. What they're planning on doing… what we're doing here… it's wrong. I'm going to try and get you and you and your kids out of here. You have to trust me….." Aeryn frowned, unsure how to respond, especially since Flyte had now fallen silent at the sound of the cell door opening.

"I see you're getting to know the subject," Laszlo remarked as she entered, flanked by an armed, heavy-set male security guard.

"Well, I've never met a live alien before," Flyte shrugged in an off-hand manner, standing and putting on a detached expression to match the new tone of her voice.

"So long as you don't get too attached," Laszlo responded, raising an eyebrow and looking pointedly at Flyte.

Aeryn silently cursed whatever gods might be eavesdropping on her thoughts. How come, she wondered to herself, that almost every time I have a stasis pregnancy I end up getting held prisoner by a psychopath? She resolved to herself that in future she would not go around with a pregnancy in stasis: It just seemed to be tempting fate too much. It would be far safer for everyone just to get on and have the narl straight away. Still, there was no time to dwell on that now: Aeryn had urgent questions which needed answering.

"Who the frell are you?" Aeryn croaked, her mouth dry form dehydration. She wished she could have spat the words, but she lacked the saliva, she reflected dryly.

"It really can speak English!" Laszlo commented to Flyte, but looking curiously at Aeryn. "But it's not human?"

"Apparently so. Although Sebaceans are very similar, of course," Flyte confirmed. "With just a few differences…"

"Which I expect your full report on…" Laszlo interrupted. "With an analysis of and differences between the alien and the hybrids. And humans, of course."

"Why are you doing this to us?" Aeryn asked. Laszlo considered this for such a long time that both Aeryn and Flyte wondered if she was going to answer at all. But when the answer did come, it chilled Aeryn to her marrow.

"I think, Officer Sun, because we can," observed Laszlo, as though explaining the simplest of concepts to a child. "You'd better get on with studying this one – I don't expect it'll be with us for very long," she added to Flyte, before turning to leave.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Two Maruaders, of the very latest design and operating in full Stealth mode, sat down in the Columbia countryside, disgorging six human soldiers and three armed figures in full Peacekeeper equipment. To their own surprise, the humans were all also armed. None of them would have suspected to have been armed and free on Earth just a day before. However, having been briefed by Kovack regarding everything which he had seen and heard in recent days, they were all in agreement with him regarding what he felt needed to be done. They were sworn to the defense of their country, and no one on the ground seemed to understand just how dangerous it might be to persist in holding the Sun-Crichtons or to keep up such a belligerent attitude towards the aliens. Someone needed to try to sort matters out, and it looked as though that task had fallen to them.

Dr Katherine Flyte kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto her couch: It had been another long day at work, now that they had four subjects to work on. In the two days since Sun and Crichton had been captured, she had not ever been able to truly relax even away from work. Not only was she growing increasingly concerned about the work she and her team were being asked to do, after her own short abduction, she now had a team of armed guards following her around 24/7. She knew two of them would be out the front right now, sitting in their sedan, munching on doughnuts and drinking coffee, or whatever it was they got up to. What was worse than the guards, though, was that she was finding it hard to justify to herself what she and her team were doing at Fairfax. These weren't hostile aliens, intent on World domination. They were just a family. A rather well armed family, granted, and a family that had somehow gotten themselves caught up in someone else's grand plan, but they were clearly not part of some alien invasion of Earth. She had just picked up the remote to turn the TV on when the doorbell rang. Dropping the remote on the couch, she sighed and made her way to the door.

Flyte peered through the spy glass to see a couple on her doorstep, both with the hardened, smartly turned out look of military or secret service types. One was a man, maybe about 40 years old with close cropped, almost shaved hair, wearing military fatigues, and the other was a woman who looked in her early twenties, with her dark hair tied back in a severe ponytail. She didn't recognize either of them, but could easily guess why they were here.

"Yes?" Flyte drawled, bored already.

The man flashed an official looking badge of some sort towards the spy glass and said in clipped tones. "Ma'am, can you let us in please? It is a matter of some urgency."

Flyte sighed and unfastened the door. It was still opening when the man marched inside, closely followed by the woman, who was now holding some sort of device which resembled a large PDA and was waving it around in front of her as though she was scanning the room. The man turned and pushed the door shut before motioning Flyte to follow the woman into Flyte's living room. Flyte opened her mouth to protest when the man raised a silencing finger.

"Narsh, scharth gepecht," the woman said, looking up for the first time and nodding at the man.

"What the hell…!" Flyte began. But in her heart she already knew: She had heard four other people speak like that in the last few weeks, and they were currently all incarcerated by her employer.

"Captain John Kovack, 82nd Airborne Division, most latterly of the X-469," the man introduced himself, holding out a hand. "And this is Sub-officer Pittach, one of Aeryn Sun's crew. And she was just saying that she has disabled all the listening devices in this room."

Flyte slumped onto her couch, all energy knocked out of her. Not again! And what listening devices?

"But you're dea…" she began half-heartedly. It was now self evident that she had been misinformed in that small matter.

"Apparently not," snapped Kovack, interrupting her. He sat down in front of her to make sure he kept her attention. Pittach continued to prowl around the room, splitting her attention between her scanner, the windows and doors and the information coming through her earpiece from the team on watch outside, who were reassuring her that nothing was happening out there for her to be concerned about.

"How did you… what do you…?" began Flyte. This was all getting too much for her. Multiple armed intrusions into her home, her life. Kidnappings. Threats. Dead people and aliens walking around her living room. It was all a bit much to cope with.

"I'll get straight to the point, Dr Flyte: I need to know if Aeryn Sun, John Crichton or their children are being held at the Fairfax site where you work," Kovack asked. "Are they? Being held there?" He arched his eyebrows, such as they were.

"Look, what's going on here? How come you're with…?" Flyte nodded towards Pittach, unsure quite how to describe the alien woman, "And how come you're alive, when everyone reckons you're dead?"

"Look, Dr Flyte, we don't have much time. Quick precis, we may've been the bad guys…"

"I know," Flyte conceded., nodding her head. "I've been thinking the same. We should go to the authorities…"

Kovack raised a questioning eyebrow again.

"While I'm behind the sentiment, ma'am, that may not be so wise. There's powerful forces at play here, and we don't know the half of what's going on. It seems there are people involved who would probably happily see us all dead to get their way… I'm the living proof, if you like."

"And that's it, is it? You've switched sides to save your skin? You're with the aliens now?" Flyte accused. Kovack shook his head vigorously in denial.

"No, no, that's not it. That's not it at all." Kovack insisted. "Sun and Crichton are well connected. There's aliens up there, powerful aliens like you wouldn't believe, threatening all sorts of nastiness for all of us if they aren't returned, safe and sound. Those in charge, your boss, my boss, I don't know how deep or how far it goes, but they don't seem to be listening, they don't want to hear that. My guess as to why is as good as yours. But I've been up there: We need to give the aliens Sun and her family, or there's going to be hell to pay."

Flyte blinked a few times, and tried to think of something to say, but could not quite formulate the words. Thinking about Beth Laszlo, her personality, her behaviour, Flyte could well believe and understand that there were powerful people behind all of this who would not easily give up their position, would not back down one inch. Not until or unless they were forced to do so, and damn the price anyone else might have to pay.

"Which brings us back to the aliens and Crichton," Kovack continued, interrupting her train of thought. "Are they still alive? All four of them? Are they OK? Are they at the Fairfax site?"

Flyte made a fateful decision: What this man was saying fitted well with what she'd been increasingly thinking. It seemed it was time to choose a side. "Yes, they're there, and they're safe, for now. But I don't know for how much longer," Flyte admitted.

"Well, then we need to start planning how to get them out, with as little risk and collateral damage as possible," Kovack replied. There was already enough ill will on both sides, he thought. The last thing that they needed was to make matters worse by the Peacekeepers attacking Fairfax blindly with all the force that he knew was at their disposal. "I'd like you to describe the site in more detail for me, and tomorrow I'd like you to wear a couple of miniature cameras, so we can get a really good feel for the place. The more we know, the easier it'll be to get them out without people getting hurt." Kovack knew that the last sentiment was a lie, of course: He couldn't see any way that some people weren't going to get hurt now. But he prayed that, if he played his cards right, and if they got lucky, that wouldn't include either the Sun–Crichtons or too many innocent bystanders.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Flyte and her team had scarcely managed any work the next morning before Laszlo summoned her to her office. Still wearing the alien miniature surveillance devices she had been given by Sub-Officer Pittach, Flyte entered the office quietly and without knocking to find that Laszlo was already accompanied by three men, none of whom the doctor recognized. All three men were heavy-set, one bald and the other two with short-cropped hair. All three had hardened demeanours. To Flyte, they fairly radiated menace and violence.

"…safest if we use an unlisted mobile to call the news channel on the way…." One of the men concluded, falling into a tight-lipped, red-cheeked silence when Laszlo pointed and nodded towards the door to indicate that they had company.

"Sit down, doctor," Laszlo snapped, indicating a spare chair between two of the strange men.

"Could I ask what all this is about? I've got a busy schedule this morning," Flyte demanded, smoothing her skirt primly as she sat.

"Concerning the subjects?" Laszlo countered, irritation at being addressed in such a way by an underling evident in her tone of voice. "Well, you'll be pleased to hear that I'll be lightening your workload, then."

"Pardon?" Flyte replied bluntly.

"The two male subjects and the older female subject are to be transferred to a different facility, this morning."

"But I'm in the middle of important….Why was I not informed?" Flyte responded, struggling to keep a professional lid on her emotions. Apart from her own work, this could really screw up any plans for a rescue.

"You're being informed now," Laszlo retorted sharply. "You will liaise with Mr. White and his team to prepare the subjects for transportation." The bald man nodded to indicate that he was Mr. White.

"But…."

"They will also be needing you along for the first part of the journey," Laszlo continued, interrupting Flyte's attempts to protest. We'd like you to prepare some mild sedatives. Nothing too serious, we don't want to risk harming the subjects. Just enough to make them more docile."

Flyte's jaw flapped again in empty protest and Laslzo pressed on. "Mr. Smith will go with you now, help you make the arrangements. You'll be leaving in half an hour," Laszlo concluded, dismissing Flyte with a backhanded wave of her left hand and a thin-lipped scowl.

The blonde-haired Mr. Smith was already standing, ready to leave, although the others remained seated: They clearly had more to discuss. With a resigned sigh, Flyte pushed herself to her feet to leave. As she did so, her hand slipped down between the seat cushion and arm rest, depositing one of Pittach's miniature surveillance devices there. As Flyte turned to leave the room, she prayed that any sounds picked up by the device would not be muted by the furniture and that Kovack and the aliens would be able to learn something useful from any conversation that took place in Laszlo's office after the she had left. As Mr. Smith accompanied her back to the bioscience wing, it was clear to Flyte that she would not get another private moment to try to contact the would-be rescuers before Aeryn, John and Deke were moved. She hoped that Kovack and Pittach were paying attention.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

"We're nearly there," Mr. White said to Flyte, his voice devoid of emotion. "Time to do your job. We'll be needing those sedatives now."

Flyte glared at White before picking up her small case from the floor of the anonymous, windowless van, which they were all crowded into the back of. Before opening the case, she glanced towards the other occupants at the back of the van: There were another three agents, all clad in black SWAT-type paramilitary outfits and armed to the teeth, and three others, the prisoners, Sun, Crichton and the boy, Deke, all dressed in a mixture of possibly more civilian clothing. Each of the three were shackled hand and foot, their limbs strapped down and their heads covered with blindfold bags. The prisoners had not spoken since they had been brought aboard the van: They couldn't through the gags which Flyte knew were beneath the bags. White and his team were taking no chances. Flyte could not imagine why they would need sedatives on top of all the restraints.

"I can't inject them, or even prepare the injections, while we're driving," she countered. The lead agent nodded and banged on the bulkhead to alert the agents up front. The hatch to the driver's compartment slid open slightly.

"Yeah?" drawled the man riding shotgun.

"Pull over for a minute. Doc needs to do her stuff."

"Kay," came the reply, as the hatch slammed shut. Within seconds the van came to a stop and White motioned to the case on Flyte's lap.

"Do it, then," he ordered. Flyte nodded reluctantly and headed back down the van, the first syringe in her hand. The first figure she came to she knew, despite the hoods, to be Aeryn Sun. One of the agents stood ready to assist Flyte as she leant forward and pulled the blindfold bag from the prisoner, better to access the neck to make the injection.

"Don't worry; this'll just make you a bit drowsy," Flyte tried to reassure the human-looking alien. Sun glared a mixture of hatred and panic at her and bit hard on the gag as she struggled and strained to escape the inevitable needle. Flyte, not knowing how much the circumstances reminded Aeryn of her nightmarish time aboard the Scarran freighter, met her gaze, adding, even as the needle went in, "You'll act a little drunk, like your body's awake but your mind isn't really all there." Flyte smiled as the syringe emptied. She withdrew the needle and held it up, showing that it was empty for all to see. After a few more seconds Sun ceased to struggle. The Sebacean's breathing slowed and her face relaxed. Flyte smiled, glanced back to the lead agent and held out the empty syringe to him. "Next!" she snapped.

A few minutes later, a large black panel van pulled up at the "kiss and ride" point for the suburban Washington Metro station. It was nearly lunch time and only a few score people were around. None of them paid any attention to the van, or the three people who stumbled, blinking in the midday sun, out of the side door. There were two adults and a teenage boy, all dressed in black leather and each encumbered with a heavy, angular bag. They stumbled a few steps across the wide sidewalk, towards the station proper before stopping. The van's door slammed shut as the vehicle quickly drew away again, disappearing round a corner within seconds. Precious more seconds passed as the three people seemed to ponder what to do, almost as though they did not know where they were. Then the woman seemed to take charge and lead her family onwards towards the station building.

As they reached the station entrance, an amplified voice filled the concourse. "You're surrounded and outnumbered, drop your weapons!" The voice ordered. The family, along with the handful of bystanders, looked around them in confusion, all seeking a safe place to run to, a place to shelter. But from a scattering of points where shelter might have been found, gun muzzles emerged. Laser sighting dots danced around the concourse, seeking targets even as the people on the concourse ducked, rolled or ran for cover. The warning had barely stopped echoing around the building before a multitude of guns opened fire.


	15. Chapter 14

Aeryn emerged from the back of the van ahead of John and Deke, blinking in the unfamiliar sunlight, trying to work out where the frell she was and what the frell was going to happen next. She had struggled to hold her composure in the back of the van, especially when the old woman had started injecting them with something. The shackles, the needles…. It was all way too reminiscent of the time she had been a prisoner of the Scarrans, at the not-so-tender mercies of Captain Jenek and Nurse Vreena, but she was determined not to give the humans the satisfaction of seeing her distressed. Then she had been surprised to find that the injection seemed to be having no effect on her, so she resolved to play along, to mimic the symptoms that Flyte had so usefully described.

And now they stood, apparently free, again, although she did not believe that for one microt. It was obviously some sort of weird ambush. They had been armed, injected with something which she suspected was supposed to make them docile, but which had had no effect on at least her and, judging from appearances, had also had no effect on John or Deke either. Then they had been released into an unfamiliar environment. Of one thing she was sure: Whatever plans the humans had, she and her family were unlikely to be the beneficiaries.

"Are you both OK?" she hissed. "No ill effects from the injection?"

"Fine? M, ya." John confirmed.

"Seem to be," Deke confirmed.

Her hand strayed to the pulse pistol on her thigh, hidden beneath her long coat. She severely doubted that it was functional, but then, she was not supposed to have been fully functional either. If the humans wanted them to appear armed for their plan, then perhaps, for that plan to be credible, their weapons would have to be working? Also, she needed to check what was in the bags that the humans had slung over her and John's shoulders before pushing them from the van. She would have to find somewhere quiet, and soon, to verify her suspicions.

Anyway, exposed on the sidewalk was not a good place to check on any of these mysteries: Ahead of them was some sort of public building, a mass transportation terminal. On the one hand, their captors had likely intended them to enter the building, but on the other, it seemed to be the only place where they could seek cover. Aeryn pointed to the building, indicating that her family should follow.

As they stepped through the door into the station building, Aeryn knew she had made a horrific tactical mistake: Even as the amplified warning began to fill the air, she spotted the first armed man. Her eyes frantically scanned the room, spotting two more even as she grabbed Deke, rolling him to the ground behind the cover of a large, concrete trash receptacle.

As she tumbled with Deke, she registered laser sighting points dancing around the room. Then the glass door behind them shattered, the trashcan bucked from a shot, despite its weight, and the paving around her partially exploded as a shot hit close to home, showering her with shards of concrete and marble.

Aeryn pulled her pulse pistol from her holster, flicking off the safety as she brought it to the fore, seeking a target. Her mind registered Deke's pale expression, the tears to his trouser leg, the blood starting to appear near that leg. Then there was John, who had just stepped through the door as the ambush was sprung and who had instantly ducked back outside, seeking cover amongst the plentiful street furniture out there. Aeryn struggled to put her worries for the two Crichton males out of her mind. She had to stay focussed, had to think like a soldier, not a wife and mother if they were to stand any chance of surviving this.

Remaining dispassionate was easier thought than achieved, though. Aeryn blanched in fear as she heard a cascade of shots from outside the building, but she had no time to look and to learn what had happened.

Burying her worry for her family beneath her training, she took a sighting on one of their assailants. Simultaneously, the man fell forward, dropping his gun, shot through the shoulder.

But not by Aeryn. It seemed that her fears were right: Her own gun was not functional. Well, at least that was one mystery solved, she thought wryly, only to be replaced by another: who had shot their attacker?

Seconds passed as more shots echoed around the concrete and glass building, but few now seemed to be directed her way. Abruptly as it had begun, the sound of gunfire ceased.

"Captain Sun! Are you unharmed?" A voice called. Shocked, she realised her questioner was asking in Sebacean.

"Deke, Deke is hit!" she responded, not daring to take her eyes away from looking for assailants.

"I'll be OK, mum," Deke said softly and not entirely convincingly.

"Stay where you are, we will come to you, captain. And don't shoot!" Aeryn realised with a start that it was Sub-Officer Pittach from Moya. Now a handful of armed human soldiers, dressed in uniforms she recognized from the X-469, were moving around the inside of the station. They were accompanied by a handful of Moya's ex-Peacekeepers and a scattering of people she did not recognize, dressed and equipped as Black Ghosts. The sebacean and human soldiers worked swiftly to check and secure the humans who had attacked her family. A microt later, she realised that their human rescuers were indeed the prisoners they had taken from the X-469. The soldier in Aeryn noted that none of their would-be assailants were dressed in the same uniform as the human soldiers. She had no more time to ponder on the significance of that observation before Sub-Officer Pittach was standing in front of her, pulse rifle in hand. Beside Pittach stood a human solider Aeryn recognised as being a junior officer in Kovack's command.

The human soldier squatted down to check on the obviously bleeding Deke. Deke swatted him away with a scowl and a sharp "Keep him away from me!"

"Let him look. We need to check it isn't serious," Aeryn ordered getting to her feet.

Deke bit his lip and tried not to look as the soldier quickly and proficiently slit Deke's trouser leg open to check the wounds.

"Hmm, looks like splinters – shrapnel…. But there's not so much blood… don't think anything vital's cut, but we'd better be careful, just in case…." The soldier commented as he worked. Aeryn nodded in understanding.

At that moment, one of the X-469's soldiers struggled through the shattered doorway, carrying the limp, bloodied form of John into the foyer. Aeryn blustered past Pittach, the human officer next to her and all other impediments towards her injured husband.

"How is he? How bad is it?" Aeryn demanded of the soldier, fearing for the worst. John was unconscious, his face was white, apart from a line of blood coming from a cut to his forehead, and there was more blood across the front of his torso. She scarcely noticed the well-dressed woman and the man carrying some sort of camera on his shoulder who hurried up behind them, dodging past two bemused soldiers and through the door into the station.

"I think he was clipped at the shoulder, pretty much just a graze. Banged his head on a bench going down, knocked himself out," the soldier replied, grateful for the opportunity to put down the dead weight that was John. "Not as bad as it looks, I reckon."

Pittach, who had seen the two civilians approach John and Aeryn, moved menacingly to protect her captain and Crichton. She shoved the civilian woman aside, interposing herself between Aeryn and the cameraman and rattling off a spate of threats in Sebacean. She was in the process of raising her rifle to strike the cameraman with the butt of it when Kovack appeared beside her, intervening.

"Easy!" Kovack demanded, placing a hand on Pittach's forearm. "These two could be our trump card." Pittach frowned, not entirely understanding the reference, but she backed off a little. "Where'd you two spring from?" he addressed the civilians, obviously suspicious as to how and why they had come to be in this place at this time.

"Sue Betts, NNN," the woman introduced herself, trying to hide the fear in her voice beneath a veneer of professionalism. She was just a local reporter, not used to dealing with gun battles between soldiers and…. Whoever it was they had been fighting with. Or with being shoved and threatened by aggressive… Oh-My-God! Alien soldiers!

"W…we got a call twenty minutes ago saying that there had been a couple of wolves spotted wandering around near the station. We'd just given it up as a hoax and were heading back to our car when we heard all this," she rushed out, the dam on her self control bursting a little.

"Did you catch much of it?" Kovack asked.

"Some. Maybe," Betts shrugged. They'd caught less than she'd have liked of the actual battle, maybe none of it…. They'd have to check the tape. But the aftermath!

Aeryn, who was apparently now more comfortable with John's condition, spun round, addressing the senior human and Peacekeeper present, ignoring the reporters, who kept filming. "Pittach, Kovack we need to get to Fairfax to rescue Livvy before they realise what has happened here," she insisted.

"We've three companies of PKs in orbit up on Moya," Pittach supplied. Aeryn frowned. "From Zobrek," Pittach explained. Aeryn nodded once in understanding. The details of how and when didn't matter at this moment. She trusted Pittach to say if and when those details became more important.

"Excellent, call in one company straight away to secure Fairfax," Aeryn ordered. She knew she could leave the tactical details of reserves and air superiority to Zobrek.

"I want the rest of my people in on that mission," Kovack demanded. Aeryn quickly assessed the situation. Pittach was working with the humans, and if it weren't for them, she and her family would surely be dead by now at the hands of the Fairfax conspirators. It looked like they could be trusted.

"Agreed," Aeryn nodded. "And we need to get John and Deke up to Moya."

"We've three Marauders with Stealth shielding nearby," Pittach replied, the model of efficiency.

"Fine, one goes up to Moya with Deke and John, another takes us to Fairfax," Aeryn ordered. Pittach nodded and immediately made a quarter turn and started barking orders into her comms and to the nearby PKs. Kovack remained, catching Aeryn's eye.

"I'm coming with you," he insisted, then indicating the news crew with a jerk of his thumb he added, "And so should they." Aeryn cocked her head and frowned, questioning why with a single shake of her head. "Because they can show the world what's really been going on. Our word alone can be discredited."

Aeryn considered this for a second before replying, "Very well. Your world, your rules. Up to a point."

Kovack nodded back then turned, "Taylor! You take over here!" Kovack shouted, ordering one of his nearby soldiers to take charge of matters at this scene.

"Yes sir!" Taylor confirmed with military efficiency and some enthusiasm, obviously pleased to be given the responsibility of the assignment.

It was the coup of a lifetime for Sue Betts. No more reporting local traffic news and school fayres for her, she thought, as she squeezed onto the alien spacecraft with Jake her cameraman, Captain Kovack, Aeryn Sun and three of her alien commandos. "Keep the camera running," she hissed to Jake as Sun entered into a short, sharp and incomprehensible conversation with her second in command, the stern, hard-looking young woman who had shoved and threatened them back at the station. Whilst waiting for the Marauder, Kovack had identified the woman, for their benefit, as being called Sub-Officer Pittach.

Jake kept the camera rolling as Sun tossed aside a large, black and apparently useless sidearm, and was immediately handed an identical looking gun by Pittach, which the older woman checked over for a couple of seconds then stowed in a holster low on her hip. That pistol was followed by a smaller one, which Sun strapped to her ankle, then a large, sheathed knife, which she belted on to her wrist and finally some sort of rifle, which Aeryn shouldered. Sue Betts hung on tightly, the ship bucking beneath them as it presumably rushed them to their destination. Sun and Pittach rode the turbulence like experts, never once seeming to need to steady themselves, far less hang on tight. Few others aboard, especially Jake and Sue, were so adept.

After what was probably less than a minute in the air, a stream of harsh consonants and clicks crackled from some sort of intercom.

"That was the pilot: We're going to land in a few seconds," Kovack translated for the benefit of the two other humans. The two female alien soldiers were already moving to either side of the main hatch in the middle of the room, pulling on goggles before unslinging and levelling their rifles. "Stick close to us. I get the feeling that's where you'll get the best story…" Kovack advised the reporters, before working his way over to the hatch and unslinging his own weapon.

The hatch flew open, sending wind and dust eddying through the small chamber. Mere seconds later, with a thud, a jolt and what seemed to be the sound of screaming metal, the ship set down.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

It had been nearly half an hour since the Crichtons had been pushed from the back of the van. Half an hour in which Flyte had listened as the sounds of the van's journey covered the hushed words of the agents sitting around her and up front in the driver's compartment. In that time, she had grown none the wiser as to the fate of the Crichtons. She wished heartily to know what was going on and how events had unfurled back at what had, from the brief sight she had seen through the van door, been a local metro station. However, she knew well enough that she had not played her part in the conspirators' plan. She could see that the guards had been growing increasingly agitated and she hoped and prayed to any god who was listening that her duplicity in not sedating the prisoners would not be discovered or rebound upon her.

The van stopped and the driver killed the engine. Seconds later the side door was slid open by one of the Fairfax security guards, allowing sunlight to spill into the back of the van. Much to Flyte's relief, she saw that they were back at the Fairfax parking lot and that it didn't look as though anyone was waiting there to take them, or even just her, into custody. She stepped from the confines of the van, refusing the arm which White held out for her, and stood stretching her back as she took in another van standing nearby, disgorging a second set of agents into the parking lot. Several of the security agents seemed to begin muttering to each other in concerned tones, before White nodded and hurried off in the direction of the main office block.

Flyte turned and pulled her bag from the back of the van, then turned again and started walking towards the offices herself. She had work to get back to and wanted to appear as normal as possible in front of Mr. White and his associates. She had taken just a few steps when the peace of the day was torn by the loud screams of air being torn asunder by fast, powerful aircraft. All around the site, big, angular, bug-like flying machines had appeared, blinking into view as if from nowhere. They were now descending the short remaining distance into the Fairfax compound. The craft seemed to be dropping from the sky at terrifying speed, each one reaching out three stout legs to settle wherever there was clear ground, even as the guards around her struggled to process and react to their sudden arrival.

In a matter of seconds, four or five of the terrifying flying machines seemed to have landed inside the compound, with as many more following close behind. High above them, a dozen or more smaller craft swarmed around, like angry bees protecting their queen. Even before it had fully settled, a hatch opened on the craft which had landed closest to Dr Flyte and about a dozen heavily armed figures poured from it. They were dressed in burgundy and black uniforms, each with some sort of armour adorning their forearms, adding to their threat of violence. They joined dozens more soldiers swarming from the other ships, most in all-black uniforms, these also including terrifying, opaquely-visored black helmets. Scattered amongst them she spotted a small contingent dressed in what seemed to be US army uniforms, of the same design she remembered that had been worn by Kovack.

At the sight of the scores of soldiers disgorging from the clearly alien craft, Flyte dropped her bag in shock. She threw up her hands in surrender and hoped that, even if it didn't mean the same thing to these people, they would at least take it as a sign that she was unarmed and no threat. She glanced around the compound and was relieved to see that the outnumbered, outgunned and, quite frankly, outclassed site security, along with the remaining agents who had taken part in the excursion to the rail station, also all seemed to be dropping any weapons and throwing up their own hands. That was at least one small mercy, Flyte reflected, as otherwise she suspected there would have been a massacre.

Just then another ship, of the same design as the others, came in low across the treeline, only coming into view in the last couple of seconds before it was above them. Swooping low over the main gate and scrubbing off speed with unearthly rapidity, it landed in the centre of the compound, one of its three landing struts casually crushing the front of one of Mr. White's black vans as though it had been a cardboard box. Flyte took an involuntary step back, stopping only when something which felt very like the muzzle of a gun pressed into her back. Summoning as much courage as she could, she half turned , to come eye to eye with an achingly handsome young, dark-haired man, dressed in one of the burgundy and black uniforms and holding a squat, bulky, rifle-like weapon on her.

"Schnaaar carscht!" He ordered, his countenance without expression. With one armour-gauntleted hand the soldier pointed sharply at the ground. Flyte gulped and dropped to her knees, not needing any translation to understand what was required of her.

A knot of figures disgorged from the last craft to arrive, and made their way rapidly towards where Flyte and the other human prisoners were already being marshalled. Three people, all from the contingent of agents staffing the vans, seemed to have been injured during the oh-so brief takeover of the compound, and someone dressed in US military fatigues already seemed to be ministering to their medical needs whilst a number of the black-uniformed attackers stood watch.

However, Flyte barely had time to observe what was going on around the compound before the latecomers stopped in front of her. Flyte looked up to see Aeryn Sun, flanked by the woman she already knew as the Peacekeeper Pittach and by the human, Captain Kovack. Slightly detached, to one side, stood two other people in civilian garb, a man and a woman, the latter looking strangely familiar to Flyte. The man held a camera and was obviously angling to compose the best shot of the scene Flyte now found herself in. At that moment Flyte realised that she had seen the civilian woman before doing news reports on local television, Sun reached down, took Katherine Flyte by her elbow and, not unkindly, lifted her to her feet as though she were no heavier than an infant. She fixed the doctor with a steely eye.

"Kovack and Pittach told me that I have you to thank for my life and for those of my son and husband, so thank you. Now, take me to my daughter, Dr Flyte," Aeryn ordered in her seemingly-perfect English.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Beth Laszlo looked up in anger and surprise as, without warning, her office door was pushed open. Her anger turned swiftly to confusion and then concern as Mr. White entered the office, making straight towards her with a disturbingly concerned look on his own face.

"Yes, can I help you?" Laszlo demanded, trying to assert some authority over the situation.

"We've lost contact with the team at the station. All of them," White stated flatly, coming to a halt in front of Laszlo's desk. "No idea why."

"Oh!" Laszlo replied, carefully placing her pen down in front of her.

"Oh indeed," confirmed White. At that moment the site's fire alarm began sounding. When it continued sounding for more than a few seconds, White pulled an automatic pistol out of a shoulder holster and quickly checked it, something which Laszlo found a little disconcerting.

"We ought to move the girl. Now," Laszlo shouted over the alarm. "She's both our major remaining asset plus a potential liability if she's found here."

"Agreed," confirmed Mr. White, holstering his gun. "The alarm n'all will give us some cover, people will be distracted." He pulled a second automatic pistol out of his waistband, handing it to Laszlo grip-first. "You should take this," he commanded.

"Why… what do you think…?" Laszlo responded face reddening as she took the gun.

"Humour me. Just in case," he responded. "Do you know how it works?"

Laszlo gathered her composure as she quickly checked over the weapon. The alarm stopped as abruptly as it had begun. "I've one just like it," she confirmed, composed once again.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Dr Katherine Flyte led a small, eclectic group of soldiers through the stark, winding corridors towards the end of her career with Fairfax International. Sub-Officer Pittach had never once strayed more than a foot from her right elbow, whilst Aeryn Sun walked on her other flank, her alien rifle level, her almost-human face blank. Behind them followed Kovack and one of the helmeted, black-leather-clad alien soldiers, whilst behind him, and ignored by all, Sue and Jake, intrepid NNN reporters, kept up as best they could or dared.

The main building at Fairfax was large, but not huge, and even moving cautiously the small group soon found their way at the security doors leading to the live specimen holding area. Most of the Fairfax staff seemed to be keeping their heads well down, for on the way they only encountered two other groups, both teams of alien soldiers, one dressed in the burgundy and black uniforms of Black Ghosts, the other dressed in the black of commandos. Each team was escorted by one of Kovack's people as liaison and translator. Sue Betts resolved to ask what the different alien uniforms signified should the opportunity arise. However, she was fairly certain that now would not be regarded as a good time by any of her companions. It was evident that they were all pretty focussed on getting to wherever Sun's daughter was being held.

Flyte scanned her ID card through a reader beside the door, then she punched in a code on a keypad, held in the same unit as the reader. The doors did not open, but there was an audible sound, probably of the doors unlocking at the same time that they seemed to move slightly, as though a restraint had been removed. The unnamed soldier moved forward and pushed the door open, revealing a long, white and chrome corridor beyond.

"Third door on the right," Flyte indicated. Quickly, they moved down the corridor and repeated the opening procedure. This time the door led to a large room, with a security workstation and a number of other desks. There were also four people present, two scientists and two guards, it seemed from their respective clothing of lab coats and uniforms.

"Katherine!" shouted one of the scientists, a man of about thirty. One guard stood and threw up his hands and the other seemed to reach for something on his desk, but stopped, holding up his hands when Aeryn levelled her gun at him. The other scientist, a young woman, was already running for a door, but she too stopped and threw up her hands when a warning blast from the Peacekeeper soldier's gun scorched the door beside her. She turned slowly, whimpering something about her not being responsible for what was going on here. Apart from keeping an eye out that she was not a threat or trying to escape, everyone then proceeded to ignore her.

"Open the girl's cell," Kovack ordered the more compliant of the two guards. The man gulped slightly, then nodded and tapped away at something on the central security desk for a moment.

"Done," the man whispered, his voice hoarse with fear. One of half a dozen heavy doors on the far wall began to swing open.

"Livvy!" Aeryn cried out, rushing forwards.

"Mum?" came the uncertain reply from the cell, as what appeared to be a 4/5 scale model of Aeryn, albeit in grey pyjamas rather than black leather, emerged through the doorway. On seeing her mother, Livvy ran to meet her with open arms. Aeryn allowed her rifle to fall from her hands to dangle from its strap. She hoisted her daughter from the floor and into a hug with an ease, which, to the humans, belied the alien soldier's slender frame.

"You getting this, Jake?" Sue Betts asked, somewhat pointlessly. Jake grunted in the affirmative, but the sound was lost as the sound of a gunshot cracked and echoed around the chamber.

"Mum!" Livvy screamed in warning, a microt too late, as two people burst through the entrance, each holding a pistol. One was a menacing-looking man in civilian clothes who was unknown to her, the other was her tormentor-in-chief, Beth Laszlo.

White's pistol barked once, sending the Peacekeeper soldier spinning across the room towards the security desk, knocking over a chair and a small table before, save a single, unmoving boot, he disappeared from sight behind a workbench.

The sound of the shot was still reverberating around the room as the less docile of the two human guards made a lunge for something, and was immediately grappled by Sub-Officer Pittach, the two of them falling to the floor as they fought over possession of another pistol. There was another shot and a scream. Livvy could not tell who was responsible for either, but the menacing man by the door doubled over.

Almost immediately, Livvy could feel her mother releasing her, turning and fumbling for a weapon, but Livvy could tell that, despite her mother's excellent reactions, it was all too late: Her mother was encumbered by her and Laszlo was now aiming a pistol at them.

A third shot barked out, again from an Earth weapon, followed by the sound of a heavy gun falling to the hard, linoleum floor followed, a few seconds later, by the sound of a body crumpling to the ground.

Then the young, female scientist screamed for the second time in almost as many seconds.


	16. Chapter 15

With a well aimed Pantak jab, Pittach neutralised the human guard whom she was wrestling and, careful to balance staying under cover with assessing the situation and any threats in the room, she sat up the better to look around. As she did so she kicked the security guard's pistol to one side and drew her own pulse pistol from the holster on her thigh.

The older human woman, Dr Flyte, was already rushing to the side of the crumpled bodies of the newcomers, who were unknown to Pittach. The strangers now lay by the entrance to the room, beside the gun one had used to shoot the Peacekeeper soldier. The other gun they had used could not be seen. Closer to hand, Aeryn and Livvy stood, one arm round each others' waists, a pulse pistol now in Aeryn's free, right hand. Captain Kovack stood nearby, his own pistol still in his hand and pointed towards the entrance to the room. He was casting his gaze ominously around, checking the remaining humans in case there was any more trouble. He need not have worried, as the only humans still moving were the two reporters. The two younger researchers and the other security guard were all cowering, shocked by the sudden outbreak of violence and bloodshed.

"She's dead," Flyte remarked over her shoulder to Kovack and anyone else who was in earshot. Kovack gave a deep sigh followed by a shrug as the camera crew crowded them both. "Him too," she confirmed a few seconds later regarding Mr. White.

"Good shooting," Aeryn remarked. Kovack nodded in absent-minded acknowledgement of the praise.

"Then you should check on the other guy," Kovack suggested, gesturing towards where the Peacekeeper had fallen. Kovack regretted shooting the couple, whoever they were, but he was confident that he had done the right thing: They had come in, weapons drawn, shot one person without warning and were clearly getting started on a spree. He was pretty sure that there would be questions to answer, but there would be plenty of questions to answer over this whole sorry business, and at least it seemed as though the camera had been running the whole time: That, at least, should provide evidence that he had had no choice but to act to defend the occupants of the room, himself included.

"Stay here!" he heard Aeryn order her daughter, as the two captains and Dr. Flyte converged on the body of the fallen Peacekeeper.

"He's alive… just," Flyte commented as she tried to staunch the wound on the man's abdomen. "We need to get him to a hospital…" she continued.

"No!" Aeryn replied flatly, before adding more softly, "We will take our own casualties back to Moya with us."

"I think we can put our differences to one side…." Flyte began to admonish Aeryn, but Aeryn shook her head before explaining to the human.

"We have better facilities, and know how to treat our own better than you would. And besides, I think we can get there quicker. You two!" Aeryn pointed to the conscious guard and the male scientist, "Bring that thing… I have a job for you!" She finished, pointing to the emergency first aid stretcher hanging on one wall, the words to describe it being beyond her English vocabulary.

Less than a minute later the small party was making its way back through the Fairfax building, towards the courtyard, Aeryn pulled out a comms badge, receiving reports and barking orders into it as they went. After a few moments, she turned to Kovack.

"It seems the site is largely secured, with very few casualties. However, my people report that we have attracted some attention from your authorities and we won't be alone here for much longer."

"I reckon my people can take it from here," Kovack replied with a nod. It was not really surprising that the authorities were starting to notice that strange things were afoot and to home in on where they were happening. "It's probably best if you and your people make yourself scarce, anyway. Less chance for misunderstandings to escalate. We wouldn't want any trigger happy red-neck deciding to bag himself one of the Usual Alien Suspects, would we?"

"I agree," Aeryn nodded, not even noticing that she had no problem with understanding Kovack's Earthism. "But, just in case you need us, take this." She pressed a comms badge into his hand, which he inspected with a raised eyebrow before swiftly pocketing it.

"You know, Captain Sun, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Kovack remarked as they emerged into the sunlit parking lot.

"~~~~~~~~"

John perked up immediately that Aeryn entered their quarters. He watched her shrug off her jacket, hanging it up alongside her weapons belt as he sat up in their bed.

"I know you wanted me to see J'Alart, for a medical, babe, but you needn't have gone to all this trouble," he commented with a small smile, tapping the dressing on his shoulder then the one on his forehead. Aeryn half turned to watch him and frowned.

"You, human, are truly…..strange," she retorted, continuing with her business.

"Would you have it any other way?" he replied as she turned and walked towards him.

"No," she laughed, dropping to her knees on the bed beside him and smoothing his hair with the palm of her hand.

"How's Deke doing?" John asked, revelling in her touch.

"He's fine. I think he's enjoying having Chiana, J'Alart and some of the others fuss over him."

"I reckon he probably is," laughed John. "Chip off the old block….."

"He looks as though he's spent too much time on his eema this last monen, not enough time doing exercise," Aeryn snorted. "I've scheduled a two arn run for him tomorrow before first meal," Aeryn continued, now poker faced. "I'll let him know after I've finished here."

"That'll cheer him up. Anyway, shouldn't that be a two arn hop?" John asked. Aeryn laughed lightly in response to Johns' remarks. "So, that was a joke, huh, Captain? About the run?" She shrugged non-committally but grinned to indicate that maybe she wasn't serious.

"I thought you'd appreciate that. Almost as much as I thought you'd appreciate hearing that someone found our possessions in the Fairfax offices. So I've got my CD back, the one you bought me at the gas station."

"Oh!" John wondered aloud, the exclamation encompassing a dozen or more unspoken thoughts, good and bad.

"And some old pulse pistol of yours, of course," she added nonchalantly with a grin.

"Ah!" He responded, grinning back and settling back onto the bed. "Honey, what's been going on down there? Down on Earth?"

Aeryn sighed. She was hoping they wouldn't have had this conversation yet. For now, she wanted to just concentrate on having her family safely back on Moya. However, as he had asked, she could not deny him an answer.

"Kovack's return and our raid on Fairfax caused a lot of problems for a lot of people. They haven't sorted everything out or detained everyone that they want to yet, but I think they found enough evidence at Fairfax to be going along with and to keep the law enforcement officers busy. Blowing up Kovack's spaceship and capturing and holding our children against their will and without proper authority are both being regarded particularly badly, apparently. Combine that with the testimony from people like Flyte and Kovack, and it seems that it is no longer us who are the wanted criminals."

"Public opinion's a fickle thing, but it's the people in charge that worry me, always have. I bet some of them'll dodge the bullet."

"Well, Zobrek and Sikozu are doing their best to explain to the leaders of your people…"

"Not my people. The people on Moya are my people."

"Uh hmmm…. " she smoothed his hair once again and smiled down at him. "They are explaining how civilized species are expected to behave," she continued, half pretending to ignore the interruption, even though she felt a small shock of satisfaction when he had said that the people on Moya were his people. "Anyway, what about Olivia, your father and the rest? Aren't they your family?"

"Well there is that." He conceded with a wistful smile. "OK. So maybe not all of my people are up here."

"Hmmm. That's good. Because I've spent the last half arn trying to arrange a visit to Moya for your family. And I asked Olivia whether she would like to visit, to help, when we have the baby."

"B.. baby? So….. we're having it?" John practically floated out of bed in bliss.

"Only if you want," Aeryn replied, feigning indifference. "But we need a Peacekeeper med tech facility to release the stasis, and how often do we have one of those at hand?"

"Hardly ever," conceded John with a broad grin.

"And I know Clow would be so disappointed if we didn't ask her for any help. She is such a…." Aeryn searched her memory for a suitable human word. "She's such a sweetie."

"So, when do we visit the command carrier?" John asked with a grin.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Two days later, his injuries much better, John and Aeryn stood alone, side by side, on the observation deck. Their arms were wrapped around each other, her head on his good shoulder, his head resting on hers. Earth hung before them, blocking out almost everything else with its bright mix of blue, green and white. It seemed as though Moya had oriented herself to maximise the beauty of the view from the terrace.

"You know, you were right, it really is quite beautiful," Aeryn commented with a nod.

"Glad you like it," John replied with a smile.

"Well, it's easier to appreciate when your life isn't being threatened, or when you're not being driven to distraction by someone being a drannit…" Aeryn replied. " I didn't really get to enjoy it before."

"Yeah, it's nice to get to see it without someone trying to suck my brains out for a change," John rejoindered. He ignored the drannit comment and the one after that, knowing full well what period those remarks probably referred to and not wishing at that moment to drag up their relationship during their previous visit to Earth.

"You know, I am surprised, after all they went through, but Deke and Livvy are really going to miss the place," Aeryn remarked. "They want to stay for a while, get to know your family, eat some more of that awful human food. And get fat and lazy sitting on their eemas playing computer games like Earth kids for a while, I imagine…" Aeryn continued with a half grin, seemingly oblivious to how close her drannit remark had come to causing the conversation to go in an unwelcome direction.

"Can't be doing with that. I hope you've already told Chiana to restrict their diet to foodcubes," John replied.

"But on the other hand, we could stay for a little while," Aeryn suggested with carefully affected nonchalance.

"Hmm. From what you've told me, it looks like we're going to be completely off the hook with the authorities," John responded. Aeryn turned her head towards him for a moment and gave a brief frown as she tried to comprehend his latest Earthism. She decided it wasn't important. "It'd be nice to stay for just a little while, say hi to people, catch up on news and all. But Moya's my home now," he finished, squeezing Aeryn reassuringly.

"Hmm. You could get to know Larry a bit better. Go fishing with him," Aeryn replied. "And I could go motorcycling with your sister," she continued with a wistful grin. John stared agape, marvelling at how much Aeryn seemed to have misunderstood his sister. It was the Peacekeeper upbringing, of course. They had very different outlooks on many things. Which reminded him:

"So, the Peacekeepers aren't planning on cutting Earth off from the rest of the Universe then?" John asked.

"Clow said something about the toothpaste being out of the tube and not being able to get it back in again," Aeryn cracked a slight smile. "I wonder where she picked up such a bizarre saying as that?"

"Can't imagine," John smirked.

"And she also said that Erplings are like children, and that we cannot condemn the whole planet because of a few individuals."

"Couldn't have put it better…"

"What, that Erplings are like children?" It was now Aeryn's turn to smirk.

"Now just a microt, missy…" John began.

"Of course Clow says that they ought to set up some sort of embassy on Earth, now that the humans have space-faring capability," Aeryn continued. "It's a complicated business, though, setting up something here. They'll need at least one ship that can navigate wormholes, and a sanctuary up in orbit until they can trust the humans a bit more."

"Makes sense," John grunted, nodding.

"And, to start with, they will need someone that they can trust and who understands humans to head the embassy," Aeryn continued, staring straight ahead at the planet filling the viewing portal. "It is not going to be easy to find such a person."

"Did they have anyone in mind?" John asked, turning his head to look at her face, a curious smile slowly spreading from his mouth to his eyes. Maybe it would be nice for Deke and Livvy to have an extended visit, to get a chance to learn a bit about Earth and some of their human heritage, before they all headed off back to the UTs, John thought to himself.

She turned her head to his and raised an eyebrow. "Actually, yes. But if you ask me nicely, I'm sure I can find a job for you, too," she teased.

He batted her nose with his own and giggled. "Is this asking nicely enough, Captain?" he breathed, slowly pulling her closer.

"That's Commandant. Clow agreed my old rank would command more respect from the humans and seemed more appropriate, given the responsibility," she purred, grinning back at him as he kissed his way around her face. "And that's nicely enough for janitor…." She teased, biting her lip with pleasure now at his attentions. "Although I doubt if you'll have time to take on a formal position," she added softly.

"Hmm, and why is that, Commandant Ambassador?" John asked idly, rubbing her forehead and nose with his own.

"Because you'll be too busy looking after the baby, Mr. Sun," Aeryn answered, capturing John's mouth with her own and so denying him the chance to reply.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
> Sorry for the soppy ending. OK, I'm not really, if I'm honest. Besides, the way I see it, if you've suffered through reading all this and all my nasty cliff-hanger chapter endings, I owe you the FanFic equivalent of a big bowl of full fat ice cream. I hoped you enjoyed it.
> 
> Of course, the story continues in All's Well Under The Sun
> 
> Yours, ADS.


End file.
